


Not her first Choice

by cyndrat



Series: Quintessence Resonance [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Guilt, Hurt Shiro (Voltron), Lance Needs a Hug, Lance blames himself, OCs - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Esteem Issues, Shiro needs a healing pod, handwavy science and technology, pidge needs sleep, sort of Alteans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-04-07 08:04:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 22,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14076528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyndrat/pseuds/cyndrat
Summary: Being stuck on a planet with two primary races is fine. Being stuck on a planet without a working ship is less fine. But when you've got your best friend with you it's fine. Also less fine is ships crash landing. Ships that... are giant lions?“Pidge is exhausted,” I say in a gentle tone, suspecting that if I stay calm, it'll help the young man beside me to relax. “They sprained an ankle, and their left shoulder is sore and bruised from a skimming blaster shot. Lance is mostly fine, a little sore and possibly minorly concussed, but mainly tired with a large helping of guilt. You,” at this I turn just far enough to see Shiro staring across the room to the other sleeping space, “are the worst off.” He turns to face me now, his expression arranged into one of vague interest – like he knows he should care, but can’t quite do so. “Blaster shots to your right shoulder and chest, concussion, left shoulder dislocated, left arm fractured, left ankle sprained as well.” His mouth drops open before I even finish the list. “You’re going to be rather sore for the next several quintants.”“What happened to me?”I smirk. “A wall, according to Pidge.”





	1. Like Stars They Fell

**Author's Note:**

> quick note re measures of time! I am currently using:  
> tick=second  
> dobosh=minute  
> varga=hour  
> quintant=day  
> movement=week  
> phoeb=month  
> deca-phoeb=year

_“Clarence.”_ I twist around, looking for my friend in the room that is conspicuously empty of other people. _“Clary, Claaaaryyy, pick up the phooooone.”_

Oh yeah – she’s out near the tower, testing the newest iteration of our ship engine. With a sigh, I reach for my earpiece, stretching across the table, my fingers reaching just far enough to grab it. “Escalus Escalus Escalus, still not a phone.”

I smile at her responding huff and grab a stylus to poke at the fabric pooled in my lap, checking that I am still sewing straight. _“Yeah yeah cherie, but seriously, I just saw something fall through the atmosphere – it should have hit the surface south of the fifth green hill.”_

Frowning, I carefully lift the fabric off my legs as I stand, setting it back down on my chair. “Zusian?... Galran?” I cross the room, stepping carefully around piles of books and bits of tech to reach our computer array, which is halfway to sleep mode. One tap of a key wakes the three bigger screens, allowing me to manipulate them by touch.

 _“It was like nothing I’ve seen before, and the Zusians have always informed us if- Whoa, there go two more!”_ There is a faint sound of metal clattering on metal, followed up by a quiet swear. _“Same trajectory. Clarence, I think you better go check it out.”_

“Meet me there?” I ask, my brow furrowing as I zoom in on the unusual shapes just south of Green Hill #5, as Escalus estimated. The three shapes don’t look at all familiar to me either, though they do bear a strong resemblance to each other. It feels like there is something about them that I almost recognize, but I can’t think what it is as I sweep a shawl around my shoulders, leaning down to grab my go bag with my next step towards the door.

_“I’ve got to shut everything down first, but yeah. Give me thirty doboshes?”_

That sounds about right. I nod to myself, lifting the hood over the top of my head and slipping the strap of my bag over my shoulder and head. “Gotcha.” That means I should turn everything here down to ‘Away’ levels because it will likely be close to a varga before either of us will be back, and after that one scrappy Tratra found zir way in we started closing it all while both gone.

Besides, who knows what I'm going to find at this crash site.


	2. I Live for Surprise?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please welcome to the stage..... giant cat space ships!

I reach Green Hill #5, quickly approaching three ships that must be what Escalus saw. They all have a similar shape, styled after some sort of quadrupedal creature, and while they are all a fair size, the black is certainly biggest. It is also the one that looks most in disarray, fallen half over on to its side with legs akimbo and jaw wide open. I stand still a moment, waiting, but I see no movement, from any of them. Stepping between the green and blue ships, I turn a slow circle, taking in the sight.

The ships are… unusual, to say the least. Most ships outside of the Galra Empire are nondescript, the hull often pulled from a different pile of parts than the cockpit controls, all soldered up and holding together half from sheer will. Outside of those, there’s a few designs that are fairly common, spread throughout galaxies by the help of various rebel groups, but even those are simple, nothing noteworthy.

These, though, these are almost beautiful. Almost works of art rather than space-worthy vessels. I suspect they’re old, incredibly so, because no one these days has the free time to spend coming up with such an intricate looking design, aside from most people not even coming close to having the resources to build ships so big.

I pull the general scanner from my bag, tuning it to a simple scan and holding it up as I turn around again, looking at each ship. The scanner tells me that the black ship holds two, probably three separate beings, although all three ships seem to have some kind of residual energy that my tech is picking up, and not just the type that comes from a ship being flown recently.

“Hello?” I say finally, ending my turning with my body facing the black ship. After a few ticks of waiting and feeling that something or someone is watching me, I turn around, trusting my eyes to pick up on any curious Zusians or Tratras in the area. There is no one though, just the other green and blue ships, the blue seemingly sitting at attention, like… like a feline, with those bright yellow eyes and paws lined up neatly and what I realize must be a tail, curled around its side where it sits. “What,” I breathe, knowing my eyes have gone wide.

Okay. Okay. Three giant, metallic cats just landed on Zustratra, less than half a varga ago. Well, ‘landed’ is relative, but still. Giant cat space ships.

“Excuse me?” I call out, now staring up at the blue cat, keeping my eye on it as it still seems to me to be awake, though none of the three ships have moved. The only sign of life in the area are the heat indicators somewhere within the black ship. “Are you-”

The sound of a heavy foot falling on the planet’s surface comes from behind me, from where the black cat is collapsed, and I spin about. A figure in blue and white armour pauses, their gaze firmly on me, with what looks like some kind of blaster that matches the armour colours in their right hand. We stare at each other, both wary and still for a long moment.

“Uh, hello?” I say, emboldened by the fact that the person isn’t currently levelling the blaster in my direction.

A surprised shout comes from inside the black cat, and the person in front of me jerks backwards as if they want to turn and go back to the source of the sound, but they hold their stance. “We won’t be longer than a varga at most, just need to-” That same voice that shouted interrupts with a string of curses, punctuated by several words I am unfamiliar with. They sigh. “Well alright, if it’s okay we might be longer than a varga.”

“Well you appear to be neither a Galra soldier nor especially violent, so I have no issue. Take whatever time you need.” I relax, believing this person’s words. In fact, I start to recognize that I’m feeling a sense of concern, worry for what caused the abrupt shout and cursing from the depths of the black cat. The person nods, finally turning and walking back up the boarding ramp, barely stopping themselves from sprinting. “Hey,” I say, and they freeze, half turning back as if worried I was about to revoke the welcome. “Is there something I can do to help?”

They take a breath to speak. “Lance!” comes an urgent screech from the cat, and the person jerks their hand at me in a come on gesture before turning and flat out running up the ramp, in to the ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also, figuring out where to make chapter breaks is surprisingly hard? when you sit down and write the idea flow instead of worrying about natural breaks??...
> 
> also also, coming up with one interesting chapter title is great, but then there's a personal pressure to keep it up?? blegh


	3. We're All (mostly) Human

I grip my scarf to keep it securely tucked around my face, set a hand on my bag to keep it steady, and sprint. They don’t have much height on me, but I find myself struggling to catch up to the person as they disappear into the black cat, unsure of what I’m going to find.

Following the bright blue strips of light on the person’s armour becomes easy once I step into the cat’s mouth though, as everything is dark – which doesn’t seem right. Every ship I’ve seen over my lifetime has had some standing lights that only go completely out when the ship has no power, or when it has been labelled scrap. My steps slow without being able to see where I’m walking, then strips of light abruptly flicker on and off, and I falter at the sudden change. They flicker again, then seem to settle on a soft glow that lights the interior of the ship around me with an impressively consistent low brightness, just enough to see the metal under my boots but not enough to reflect off it and blind me.

“What happened?” the person in blue and white asks, and I follow their disembodied voice around a 180 degree turn into what I assume is the cockpit of the ship. “C’mon Pidgey, talk to me.” Their voice is louder now, clearer, and I can see that they have lifted their helmet off, setting it beside them where they’re crouched beside the large black and white chair.

“He was awake, he was fine, he started to get up, then he went pale.” That’s the voice that had emanated from the cat, though now that I’m closer it sounds younger, as if worry is making it vulnerable. “I tried to help, support him you know, but come on, this is me… And then he completely collapsed and isn’t responding to anything I’ve tried.”

I dig my teeth into my lower lip. I want to dive in, ask questions to complete the picture so I can help better, but I know the younger person would be liable to attack before I could explain, considering the rising panic in their tired voice. So I keep my gaze fixed on blue-and-white’s scruffy brown hair as they tilt their head, leaning down to look closer then back up, finally twisting about to look back at me.

“How much medical experience have you got?” The dark blue eyes look cautiously hopeful, with a protective warning as they admit that the third person needs help.

“A fair bit,” I reply, my answer short and calm as I kept my gaze steadily on their face, unsure of what the other’s reaction will be.

There’s a small squawk from the far side of the chair and a head of coppery hair appears over the side of it, large round glasses dominating the suspicious face. “Lance,” they say reproachfully, almost menacing as their hand strays downwards to a series of blue lights on their thigh and they level a breathtaking glare at me.

“Chill out Pidgeon, it’s fine, this is- Oh wow, gorgeous alien like you and I didn’t even get your name!” Brunet-blue waggles their eyebrows at me, and I simply raise one in reply.

I’ve gotten good at recognizing coping and defense mechanisms, and this person seems the sort to use emotion and drama without even thinking about it. “Clarence, or Clary,” I say, clearly ignoring the flirting and instead just answering the implicit question. “I live near here, and I’m offering my help. Whatever I have that you need, you’ve got it.”

Copper narrows their eyebrows, sizing me up before speaking. “The Galra are…?” they ask in a ready-to-judge tone, and it takes me a tick to realize they want me to finish their sentence.

“Generally, pretty frakking detestable.”

Copper’s lips quirk up. “I like your answer. Have at him.” Brunet-blue straightens and steps back to make space for me, looking down worriedly, and I can understand the look the moment I lay my eyes on their buddy. Collapsed is an appropriate word – he’s all loose limbs encased in black and white armour, body a slack heap in the relatively small space between the chair and the forward consoles, head already free of a helmet and flopped to the side, with a shock of pale hair falling across his forehead. His ears are…

I glance across the limp form to Copper, now properly noting their matching green and white armour, and while their ears are hidden by their wild hair, I am willing to bet that they match Black down here and Brunet-blue beside me. “He’s… You guys are human,” I say, words falling from my mouth in a startled tone. Copper-green jerks straight upright, eyes widening almost comically.

“You’ve met others?” they ask quickly.

I tilt my head side to side, a vague gesture. “Not precisely? But your anatomy is pretty similar to mine, so that should make this easier.” I catch just a glimpse of Copper-green’s guilty expression as I kneel down, and I have to wonder what would make them feel guilt about asking such a simple question. But for now, I lay my fingers on the side of the man’s neck, looking for a pulse. It’s not hard to feel, a comforting steady beat that is slower than mine, but not dangerously so. “Do you know what happened to him?” There is a tick of heavy silence as I sweep my fingertips across his skull, looking for any injury that could cause a concussion.

“Galran blaster fire,” Copper-green says when Brunet-blue doesn’t speak. “He caught a shot on his right shoulder for sure, chest too. Oh, and a wall fell on him.”

“A wall- Nope, not asking. Not now. This,” I say as I hover a hand over the blaster hit marring the chest plate just right of centre, “is concerning. Where exactly is his heart?”

“Upper left chest.” That’s Copper-green answering again, and I worry for a moment about the possible reasons why Brunet-blue isn’t saying a word. But while psychological health is important, physical injuries usually pose more danger immediately after a battle.

I hum in acknowledgement. “Less concerning. Legs seemed okay before he collapsed?” Copper-green nodded. “It’s probably fine to move him then, and I think we should. My home is better set up for this sort of thing than the cockpit of a giant cat space ship, and scanners don’t work on my building either, so yay protection.” I focus on checking his pulse again, both to make sure it hasn’t changed drastically and to give Copper-green and Brunet-blue a chance to confer if they deem it necessary. Best to offer them all the power they want, considering their buddy is basically helpless at my feet.


	4. Say my Name, I'll say Yours

“Let’s do it,” Copper-green says as they straighten their shoulders out of a slump, easily alert now that there is a plan of action.

“Right. Green, could you step back a little? Blue and I are going to have to carry him,” I direct, standing for a moment to shift my stance and step to the other side of the collapsed figure, allowing Brunet-blue space to approach again.

“I’m Pidge,” Copper-green replies quickly. “Lance is the guy in blue, and that’s Shiro down there.”

A smile flashes on to my face, and I nod my head in thanks for the introductions. “Lance, try to be careful of that injured shoulder, but don’t stress over it. He’ll probably be out of it for a while.” Lance steps forward, leaning down a beat after me to grab Shiro’s arm, and when I jerk my head in a nod, we lift together. Shiro weighs about as much as I would have guessed from the shape and size of his body, and I can understand how Pidge wouldn’t have been able to support him for terribly long. I let out a hard breath, inserting myself close to the man’s side. I wonder what the average human’s body shape and weight are like, and whether the range I have before me is at all indicative.

“Move him around the chair in Lance’s direction,” Pidge orders, looking on with a calculating look on their face. Lance and I start to shuffle sideways, as the chair only leaves a little more than an arm’s length of open space before the ship’s consoles, with Shiro’s helmet set on the floor right against the console as an extra obstacle for me to maneuver around.

“Pidge-” I huff, finding that working the harsh sounds of their name out of my mouth while half carrying Shiro is tougher than I had anticipated. “Grab his- the helmets.” They make an understanding sound in response, jamming glasses into some unseen pocket and their own green and white helmet over their mass of hair before darting in closer to my feet and picking up Shiro’s helmet.

“Whoa, watch out-” Lance sputters, finally speaking up again when Pidge slips around the back of the chair and lifts his helmet, then they hop backwards while I manage the turn around the front corner of the chair.

We shuffle sideways a few more steps, then I have the space to walk straight forward, and I feel my shoulders relaxing a little. “Okay, this is working fairly well.” I shift my hold on Shiro, grasping his wrist more securely and thanking the stars for that final growth spurt that allows me to be only a hand shorter than Lance, and therefore to apparently be close enough to Shiro’s height for this to be the same mildly-uncomfortable that half carrying anyone is. “My house is- is maybe ten doboshes away, at this rate. Though my co-pilot might be able to pick us up with the land transport.”

“That sounds…” Pidge says slowly, a nervous, suspicious edge to their tone before they’re interrupted by Lance.

“Like a pretty good plan, have you seen Shiro, he’s freaking heavy – seriously Pidgeon, you try lifting a man this buff.”

I huff a laugh as Pidge shies backwards, a shudder wracking their body at the thought. These two act more emotional, more dramatic than the average species I’ve come into contact with. Though again, it’s hard to know whether they are an accurate sample of the human population or if my observations so far are all based on statistical outliers. “Alright, let’s just focus on getting out of this space cat, agreed?”

Pidge snickers unexpectedly. “Space cat,” they repeat quietly as Lance and I walk carefully past them, heading back down the short hall to the ramp we had come up earlier. “Fucking… space cats.”

I slide my gaze sideways to Lance, him glancing to me for a tick and the both of us sharing a slightly concerned look in the dim lighting. Pidge seems… less than okay, and Lance would appear to share that opinion, though I’m not familiar enough with humans to guess whether they’re concussed or just tired.

“’s probably fine,” Lance murmurs, setting his eyes straight ahead, with apprehension tensing his shoulders.

“Probably,” I agree reluctantly, focusing my attention on my feet as the ramp changes in angle and the sun’s light is abruptly painting our boots. It’s significantly brighter than the lights inside the cat, but I find the natural light easier to adjust to, still infinitely jealous that Escalus can get away with simply wearing goggles all the time that moderate the light before it reaches our sensitive photoreceptors. Speaking of Escalus… I lift my hand to my headset for an instant, tapping the comm on. “Escalus my darling friend, where are you at?”

_“Clary! I’m almost at the house. What’s going on?”_

“Can you get the transport running? I’ve got a few humans with me, one unconscious and in need of medical aid.” I see Lance’s head bobbing ever so slightly in my periphery, and I suspect he is paying more attention to my conversation than he would have me believe. To be fair, I would likely do the same, if a supposed rescuer was talking to a supposed ally without any proof that they were, indeed, allies.

We step off the ramp and onto the planet’s surface then stop, Pidge making a curious sound behind us as they set foot on the surface and come to stand at my side.

_“Gotcha. I could also send some medical supplies with the transport?”_

“Nah,” I say, sparing Shiro a glance, and now properly seeing the pinky scar tissue that stretches across the middle of his face, likely appearing darker than usual against unnaturally pale skin. “He’s stable, so it can wait til the house.” My face flashes into a frown, and I force myself to relax my expression to avoid concerning my found companions. I just… can’t think why he seems familiar. I have heard that there might be a few humans with the rebellion, but that’s just whispered rumours that come after beings learn about how Escalus and I grew up – and neither of us have spent much time with any rebels, so even if those whispers are true, I don’t have the proof. Besides that, I’m confident I’ve never actually crossed paths with this man. “Just send the transport.”

_“Copy that.”_

I smile, now that we have a solid plan. Glancing around at the other giant cat space ships, I note that the blue one still looks alert – on watch – but the green cat seems to have slumped down a little. “The cats,” I say, and Lance tenses just a little at my words, “are they- Wait. Are you expecting another?” Pidge’s head snaps up, their gaze scanning the sky, and a tick later they see what I spotted, a dark blob approaching through the atmosphere that breaks up into multiple dark shapes.

“Not that many,” they reply. “Lance?” Their voice has the slightest quiver in it, and I seriously wonder how old these three are, because while Pidge seems content to take any power offered to them, the moments like this and when they were explaining Shiro's collapse show a certain vulnerability, and a need for someone else to be the adult.

“I’ll get Blue,” Lance breathes, his own head raised to watch carefully even as he removes himself from Shiro’s side. Pidge offers his helmet and he takes it, then sprints to the blue cat as if it’s our only hope.

“I can…” Pidge says, limping a few steps towards the green cat and I can’t believe I haven’t noticed that they’re favouring their left foot.

“Maybe you can help me?” I ask, widening my eyes at them. “I get the feeling being inside the cat would be safer.” They blink blankly at me a moment, then shuffle closer, and I know I’ve made the right decision. “Escalus!”

_“Yeah?”_

“We have incoming ships, probably Galra.” Pidge inhales quickly, as if they hadn’t quite thought that through until I said it. I shift my grip on Shiro, taking most of his weight while Pidge inserts themselves against his side where Lance had been. If I had to, I could carry the man on my own, but Pidge’s body can offer me better balance. “Can you do air support? For as long as the tech will hold out?”

 _“Yeah.”_ Escalus’s tone has shifted, from concerned to dead serious, and I know I can ignore her now because she’ll be entirely focussed on the task at hand.

“Let’s get moving.” I jerk my head at Pidge, taking a few quick steps to turn us around with them as the pivot point. Then we step onto the ramp, jerky and awkward because Pidge is really small, relative to Shiro and Lance and I, but they do help my balance some.

 _“Watch out!”_ Lance’s frantic shout is loud enough that I can hear his voice through the comm that must be in their helmets. But instead of making us move faster, the warning comes when Pidge is mid-step and they stumble as they try to move quicker, letting out a gasp of pain. _“No, I just need thirty seconds, nonono-”_ Lance says loudly, his tone growing more urgent.

“Quiznak,” I spit, then twist, shifting around Shiro’s body to reach for Pidge, getting a glimpse of several fighter ships aiming right for us. I grab Pidge, wrapping an arm around their waist and lifting, ready to toss the smaller human up the ramp as I hear the whine of a ship’s blaster warming up and shooting-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone interested in cliffhangers? anyone?
> 
> no? oh well
> 
> I'll have one, probably two more chapters up rather quickly, as they're mostly all written  
> after that, updates are gonna get more sporadic as I reach mostly-unwritten plot


	5. More Than You Realize

There’s something like a rumble that overwrites the sounds of the incoming Galra ships. A flash of wind ruffles my hood, dropping it to my shoulders, and I begin to tense up because the marks of my heritage are damning on many planets, but another rush of wind that almost feels more like a breath shuffles through my hair, and it’s oddly calming.

“What.” Pidge’s voice echoes, the word carefully even but surprised, and I feel a chuckle roll through me as I open my eyes. It’s dark – completely so, even more than earlier when I followed Lance up to the cockpit. “What are you doing?”

“Me?” I feel Pidge wriggle where I’ve got them practically hugged against my body, and I release them, my hand finding their arm and holding it gently in case they’re still unsteady on their feet.

“No, Black.”

I’m confused, but I don’t ask, suspecting that whatever is going on needs a fair bit of context. Instead, I stand still, letting go of Pidge when they shift away from me but keeping my grip on Shiro’s waist constant. Pidge doesn’t seem particularly worried about this development, just surprised, so we’re probably safe- And at that thought, I feel a tired sigh escape my lips and I blink, not certain what I did to make me feel achy all of a sudden.

Pidge makes a surprised sound, leaping backwards into my and Shiro’s bodies where I automatically wrap my arm around them again, careful of the white and green shape now clutched in their hand- Wait, I can see the colours of their armour. The lights are on again, flickering intermittently, but we are definitely standing inside the cat. I crane my head to the left, looking over Shiro’s elbow to see that the ramp… is no longer settled on the planet’s surface.

“What- what just happened?”

“She must have noticed the ships,” Pidge mutters, then twists around to peer up into Shiro’s face, hope brightening their eyes. “Shiro? Hey, Shiro you there?” There’s no movement from the man, just his white forelock moving in the same air flow that lifts my own bangs, blowing them into my face. I release Pidge once more, shoving my overlong bangs to the sides where they belong, and I feel a huff of laughter bubble up at- Hold on, wait. That’s not coming from me.

“Seriously Pidge, what the frak is going on?” It’s a struggle to keep my voice even. This is weird. This is, it doesn’t make sense, and of course now I recognize that Shiro is the man the Galra Empire had called their ‘Champion’ which makes it even weirder that I’ve got him draped unconscious over my shoulder in the mouth of a giant cat space ship-

“Whoa, take a deep breath.”

“What- I don’t understand, what is…” My sentence trails off, my eyes pulled to the top of the ramp, towards the cockpit and the chair I know is waiting. I hear another huff, but this time it isn’t laughter, not really. It’s an urging forward. It’s a welcome, an order, a request. “Okay.” The word comes out with my breath, barely a sound. “This is weird, but okay.” In a few smooth moves, I completely change my hold on Shiro, pulling his torso across my shoulders and gripping his legs in one hand, right arm in the other. “Come on,” I tell Pidge with a brief glance in their direction, barely able to offer them that much attention as I walk past, my gaze set on the goal.

I’m still not- this doesn’t make sense, but that huffing sound is starting to sound less like wind and more like a voice, more like a call that is asking for me in particular. It offers a thought to Shiro, a sense of _‘mine’_ and _‘care’_ and _‘want’_ , but it is shuffling that thought to the side: not irrelevant, but not the primary focus right now. No, that would be me. Me, as I reach the top of the ramp, as I turn 180 degrees again and set Shiro down on a bench set into the wall. Me, as I step away from the man and let my feet follow my eyes to the chair, skimming a hand over one side of its back, stepping forwards then sideways and sinking down into the chair, which slides forwards and then everything lights up pale purple, control screens glowing lightly.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Pidge asks angrily, popping up beside me and grabbing at my jacket, my scarf, their expression confused and eyes scared.

“I don’t know,” I say, meeting their gaze even as I reach for the joysticks. “I’m just, just doing what it- no, what _she_ tells me.” Pidge gapes, falls backwards a little then releases my clothing and instead grabs hold of the chair’s back, peering over it with their breath ruffling the top of my hair.

I tug one of the joysticks up, and the entire cat shifts, the whisper of a pained sigh making me shiver. “I know,” I whisper to the lion. “We’ll make you all better soon, I promise.” I look out the viewscreen, instantly spotting the fighter ships, a few blasts already coming, but the lion assures me she can take those. “But first…” I run my eyes over the controls in front of me, but I can only read one word in a dozen. What is this? Most of the universe uses the Galran script, and this is certainly not that. What kind of crazy person designed the controls in here?

I force myself into taking a deep breath. I’m starting to panic. I close my eyes, ignoring Pidge’s startled sounds as the black lion takes a hit and shudders heavily, another blast hitting the ground in front of her paws. _Show me what you need,_ I think clearly, directing the words to the lion, hoping this method of communication will work.

She growls and huffs, then nudges me to shift my grip on one of the joysticks, pushing it opposite of the other as she roars. I keep my eyes closed, feeling the marks on my face warm in the way that tells me they've become visible again at the same time that Black emits a laser from her mouth. I can feel her satisfaction as the attack tears through the fighters, then together we target a handful that have begun circling the Green lion, picking them off without touching Green herself. There’s a flash of forest that interrupts Black’s ambient noise of birdcalls and wind and breath, and a tick later a roll of ocean waves splashes against the forests, pushing them aside curiously. Black huffs a chortle and lovingly bats them both away without a second thought.

I gasp, opening my eyes in time to see Blue push off the ground, flying a tight spiral around the larger Galra ship that has come into view above the planet. She’s holding something in her jaws as she twists around it, then swoops away and back towards the planet’s surface as the ship explodes behind her.

Pidge and I cheer, Black joining in, her protective snarl dissolving into a deep purr that relaxes my shoulders and encourages me to drop my head against the back of the chair. “Oh my stars,” I murmur, and Pidge laughs, nudging my shoulder. 

_“Shiro?”_ Lance’s voice is jubilant, but a little bewildered. _“Hey that was awesome, but are you okay man?”_ Pidge reaches forward and around me, pushing a button, and a small video feed pops up, Lance visible in the blue glow of the blue lion.

“Not Shiro,” Pidge says smugly, one of their arms snaking around my shoulders.

“I don’t- I’m not entirely sure what’s going on?” I turn pleading eyes on Lance. “She just, um, told me what to do?”

He raises an eyebrow, expression shifting a bit from surprised to thoughtful. _“Innnnteresting,”_ is all he says. _“Hey, is there a better place we can leave the lions?”_

“Oh, definitely.” I consider for a tick, trying to decide if Black would fit in the caverns we had claimed, then thinking of something else. “Oh shoot.” My hand flies to my headset, checking that it is on. “Escalus?”

Her voice fills my ear instantly, as if she was waiting for me to acknowledge her existence. _“Clarence what the quiznak?! Seriously, what the frak just happened? I know what my eyes saw, but my brain is having trouble computing.”_ I sigh, listening as my friend spits out a few more swears, clearly startled and confused.

“So uh the ships that landed-slash-crashed are giant cats – lions – and I can pilot one of them? A little bit, at least.” Black whuffles, giving me the mental equivalent of shaking me lightly. “Well, with help, but I can. It’s really crazy weird, but kind of cool?”

_“Okay put a pause, right there, no more words. You can explain when you get back, and we take care of those humans. Okay?”_

I take a quick breath, slowing myself down just a moment. “Yeah, good idea. Oh uh, we’re not going to need the transport, it looks like. But can you open the cavern? The biggest one.”

_“I- Not even asking, nope. But alright, I got it. See you in a bit?”_

“Yeah.” I can hear the vaguest white noise in my ear, and I guess that Escalus has put her comm on standby. “Hey Pidge?” I wait for them to turn and look at me before continuing. “Can you fly Green? There’s some caverns near the house that we should be able to set the lions down in.” They waver physically, and blink a few times, but when they nod, their amber eyes are clear with focus. “Go on and get in there, then I can lead you both over. Sound good?” Pidge nods again, and I look to Lance on the video feed, watching him nod and raise his thumbs from fists. It’s an unknown gesture to me, but it looks like confirmation, especially when paired with the nod. “Okay.” We’re all still for a moment, and I stare blankly at the array of controls. “Uh, how do I let you out?”


	6. Let Us Take Care of You

“I thought we were staying off the radar, Clarence?” I freeze in the doorway, hearing a surprised sound from behind me at the sudden stop. Escalus’s tone is indifferent, too even, overly casual. She isn’t mad, per se, most likely confused and scared, and using the rebuke as a safe cover for her true emotions.

I step forwards, restarting my movement because by now Shiro is actually feeling a little heavy. “I thought we wanted to help people, Escalus? So much, in fact, that we actually left Iatradey and struck out on our own against all advice otherwise?”

“I just…” She sighs, putting her tablet down with slightly more force than necessary, but the slump of her shoulders indicates that she’s still worried and tense more than anything else. I quell a sigh, moving forwards and elbowing a curtain wall open. It’s only because I’m watching from the corner of my eye that I see Escalus rub her face, leftover anxiety running a shiver through her body as I set Shiro down on my bed. I set my fingers against his neck for several ticks, checking his pulse again, then turn, satisfied that not much has changed.

“Introductions?” I say, an offer, a prompt. Escalus stands quickly and turns to face the room, eyes wide as if she hadn’t properly realized there were extra people in our home. I step across the room to my friend’s side, touching her arm reassuringly. “Escalus Mowbray, my best friend and copilot. Lance and Pidge, and Shiro, also sort of on the run from the Galran Empire.” I point to each of the humans in turn, watching Pidge’s small wave and Lance’s wink and finger guns.

Escalus’s gaze brushes curiously over the two, then settles on Shiro. “What happened to him?”

“Galra blasters, and, allegedly, a wall,” I answer, patting her shoulder and giving her an encouraging push towards the unconscious man. She sets off across the room without a word, her back straight in such a way that I can tell she’s starting to get hyperfocused once again. “Lance, can you help her with that armour? She’s going to get super focused pretty quick, and that needs to be out of the way before then. Pidge, help me get some food and drink for us all?” They both nod, Pidge seeming significantly more confident than Lance, and I worry again. That boy, from what I’ve seen so far, is the sort to cover up the biggest heart with flirting, and exuberance, and boasting. He’s the sort to get depressed on the part of others, to worry for them but not himself, to put their needs above his own whenever he can get away with it – which would be often, unless the people around him can recognize what he works so hard to hide.

“So,” Pidge says, their voice monotone as they shuffle-limp towards me. “What exciting space food goo are you going to shove at us?”

I blink at them, a little confused by their question. “Um, goo? What is…” Their eyes brighten and they bounce forward, somehow finding enough energy to be excited. “Whoa,” I raise my hands placatingly, trying to get them to slow down some, “first we should-” They stumble and pale, a pained sound escaping their lips as they reach out the remaining distance and half fall into me. “Yeah,” I sigh, lifting Pidge upright again but keeping them tucked close to my side. “We should do something about that.” I look around myself, trying to decide where the closest surface I can set them down on is. Probably just the desk beside us, because Pidge is rather light. “Alright, you stay here for a sec,” I order, scooping their body up to sit them on the desk and ignoring the indignant screech.

“Clarence,” Escalus growls, and when I twist around to look, I see her holding a wet cloth on Shiro’s shoulder – the blaster wound must be making it hard to remove the dark undersuit from his body.

I turn back, narrowing my eyes at Pidge and they have the grace to look slightly sheepish. “Stay,” I repeat, then walk into the edge of my sleep space, taking a look at the supplies Escalus has assembled. Pidge has trouble walking properly on their left foot, but it will be hard to determine whether it’s simply a sprain or a fracture. Nevertheless, treatment is similar. I choose a small roll of compression bandage and a cool pack, sparing a Lance a look.

He’s hovering, almost. Standing on the other side of my bed, he has his fingers on the collar of Shiro’s undersuit, gingerly tugging on a zip-pull that runs the length of the suit’s torso. His gaze is studiously fixed on what he’s doing with his hands, but I see the barely there quiver in his fingers.

No matter how okay that boy acts, I can tell that he’s not.

With a sigh, I carry my supplies back to Pidge. I won’t be able to really talk to Lance until after Shiro is treated and Escalus and I have done more to help the trio, like feed them – food is a good way to earn trust. Then, maybe, I’ll have a chance to help him work through the things that are eating him up from the inside.

“Okay kid, let me get at that ankle.” Pidge lifts their leg, resting it on the opposite knee as their nimble fingers set about adjusting the leg armour. I can’t quite see enough of what they’re doing to understand the how, but a tick later the piece sits looser on their leg, and they pull on the boot, face screwing up in pain and I find myself setting my supplies down and reaching forward. “Let me?” They huff, releasing their foot and sitting straight, hands falling to the table by their hips. I cradle their foot in one hand, wiggling the boot piece, lower leg armour attached, and moments later I’m placing the pieces on the floor.

“Cold,” Pidge murmurs, biting their lip, and I shift my hands up their leg. The undersuit is close fitting, the legs ending in a stirrup, Pidge’s toes and heel covered only in bright green and orange striped socks.

“Nice socks,” I quip, and they groan softly while Lance laughs.

“What’d I say Pidgey?” he says, and when I glance back I see a gentleness in his face, his shoulders relaxed. I smile. These two are good for each other.

I turn my gaze back to Pidge, waiting until they meet my eyes. “I’m going to have to get to your skin, so yes – my hands are often cold, and I’m sorry.” They make a dismissive sound, shifting to lean back on their hands a little, and I take that as my cue to go ahead, sliding the undersuit up and sock completely off their foot. “Does this hurt?” I probe their bones with my fingers, flicking my gaze up to their face to watch for changes in expression. They stay quiet, and nothing in their body language suggests hiding pain. Just sprained then. Humming quietly, I reach for the compression roll, quickly wrapping Pidge’s foot and ankle, popping the sock back on with a smirk. “There you go kiddo, hold the cold pack on there for fifteen doboshes. Now!” I resist the urge to clap my hands, simply rubbing them together to avoid startling Escalus. “Food.”


	7. Hand Me All the Secants

“Do you have any sensitivities?” I ask Pidge, who is clutching my arm as they hobble along beside me. It is long past time to get some food and drink into these people, but I should be sure I don’t try to feed them anything that will react badly with their physiology.

“’Sensitivities?’” they parrot back at me, and when I glance down I see confusion on their face.

The word must not have translated the way I meant it to, so I search for another. “Allergies?” I say finally, and understanding flashes before they shake their head.

“Nah, not us three.” Pidge smiles as if thinking of a memory. “Keith though…”

I ignore the name drop and just keep walking, suspecting that it will be easy enough to get the trio’s story over supper. “Up?” I suggest, having reached our kitchen corner and wanting to place Pidge somewhere that will be mostly out of the way, but will still keep them off their sprained ankle. They sigh, nodding and raising their arms for me to more easily grasp them around the waist, and I lift them on to the counter.

“Lance, I swear,” Escalus says suddenly, her voice biting. I spin to look, curious what has my friend snapping aloud. She is holding Lance’s wrist and the boy is frozen, looking bewildered. “Don’t you know what to do for a simple blaster wound?” His face falls for an instant before his expression clears completely, as if he’s closing himself off. I bite my lip worriedly, continuing to watch.

“No,” he murmurs, almost too soft for me to hear from across the main room. “Maybe I should just- let you work. I’ll get out of your way.” Escalus is already dropping her gaze to Shiro and releasing Lance, and he steps back.

Quiznak. She couldn’t have known, hasn’t had the same time I have had to pick up on hints of his insecurities…I close my eyes for an instant, struggling to think of how to neutralize the situation before Lance gets out of my reach. It’s Pidge, however, who comes up with a solution first.

“Hey Lance, help me choose dinner?” It takes a few ticks, but Lance’s dark eyes meet Pidge’s, and he starts to gravitate towards us. “We have fucking choices!”

“Language,” he says quickly, automatically, as if it’s a regular response. Then he seems to process what Pidge actually said, and he brightens a little, shoulders still drooping but his pace picks up. “Choices? Please say it’s not food goo, please say it’s not food goo, please say it’s not…”

“It’s not food goo.” I manage the words through a smile, shifting back so there’s more space for Lance to come stand with us. “It is true there are some options, but likely not as many as you’re imagining.”

Lance loops an arm about my shoulders. “Clary, my friend my darling my gal, the only options we’ve been faced with for the past two weeks have been plain green food goo, or slightly less plain orange food goo.” I chuckle, slumping a little so his arm sits more comfortably. This is a rant that has been threatening to burst out for a while, if his companions haven’t already been subjected to it. “That Altean castle is pretty neat, but man they had no idea how to prepare food and stick it in a freezer! Seriously-”

He goes on a little more, but I froze up after the beginning of that statement. “A-Altean? You said an Altean castle?”

Two pairs of eyes swivel to blink at me. “Ye-ess?” Lance says, tone questioning while Pidge tilts their head at me.

“Was that the writing on all the lion control panels then, Old Altean?” That would explain so, so much about the lions, how beautifully designed they were, how I couldn’t understand enough of the words to have a hope of deciphering the controls, how they were clearly more than simple metal ships.

“I guess so,” Pidge answers, one hand absently sweeping up to adjust their round glasses. They lean towards me, and I take a jolted step closer to make sure they stay on their counter. “What do you know about Alteans?”

This little huddle in my kitchen suddenly feels like an interrogation, both Lance and Pidge staring me down with sharp eyes as they wait hungrily for whatever information I have to offer. “They- Well, their planet was destroyed 10,000 deca-phoebs ago, the royal family lost and the survivors scattered. That was, in essence, the start of the Galran Empire’s reign. Without the diplomacy of the Alteans, a lot of treaties and alliances lost power – many planets had little hope of resisting the Empire when it came. What- What do you know about Alteans?”

Pidge sits back quietly, so Lance speaks, his answer guarded. “Not much more.” There is something more, at least.

But I don’t dare push. Instead, I scrabble at my thoughts, working to go back to my goal before we got sidetracked. Right, food. “I do know, now that you give me context, that Alteans were fond of their gardens, and that ‘food goo’ stuff was never intended to be a long term nutrition plan. It’s fine, for as long as you want or need it to be, but it was only ever designed for emergency scenarios.” The two humans exchange a look, communicating something between them, but I realize that I don’t know nearly enough to guess at what. Anyways… I’m still trying to turn our collective focus. “But that’s neither here nor there, because right now I am feeding you, and there is no ‘food goo’ in my kitchen.”

Lance lets out a small cheer and Pidge laughs. “Oh thank you, sweet Maria y San Ambrosio y San Lorenzo, thank you por la comida fresca!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes I tossed in a little Spanish at the end there, cause I am certain Lance is bilingual (at least) and that he varies his word choice a little sometimes (possible depending partially on how much drama he wants to add to the situation)
> 
> secant: (geometry) "a straight line that cuts a curve in two or more parts" [from google]
> 
> also ooh ooOOh someone knows some space history


	8. Sue me, I Like Them (but you do too)

Pidge and Lance take so long to settle on a meal that Escalus starts to blink out of her focused haze before it is fully prepared. I see her glancing over a few times, taking in the situation as I slide a pan of velidine tatin into the convector, and it almost feels like I’m back on Iatradey, balancing the completion of my own tasks while keeping my younger housemates from making a disaster of anything. At the moment, Pidge is distracted by puzzling through the technology of the convector in a mutter. Lance, thankfully, is still managing to keep the reconstructed salad within the biggest bowl we have as opposed to all over the counter as he mixes it furiously. Green and blue sets of armour are piled up on the edge of Escalus’s sleep space, Lance wearing a sheer shirt of mine that is only laced halfway up the front, leaving the top several inches loose. Pidge is resolutely still in their black undersuit, but they had absently picked up my scarf from the counter where I placed it ten doboshes ago and currently have it wrapped around their own shoulders.

“Clarence,” Escalus sighs, and I look back to see her standing at Shiro’s side, turning away from him. She gives me a stare, and I can guess what she’s thinking from the sight of the two humans comfortable in my kitchen and bits of my clothing. From her point of view, I’ve already as well as adopted them.

“I’m not, honest!” My cheeks are flushed, making my denial more suspect, and Escalus just shakes her head. She gathers the medical supplies in her arms and carries them back to the storage crate, then continues across the room to lean against the counter at Pidge’s side.

“Not what?” Lance says curiously, setting his hip against his own counter and looking between the two of us as Pidge’s mutterings fade.

I shake my head as an emphatic _no_ at Escalus, but she just smiles sweetly. “Clarence likes you two.” I close my eyes and try to ignore the ‘oooh’ that Lance emits. “If you’re not careful, you’ll be absorbed into our disjointed family.” Lance aww’s, and I sigh, hiding my face by checking the convector, focusing just enough to actually pay attention to whether the food is ready yet.

“Not if we absorb you first,” Pidge mumbles aloud, then quickly covers their mouth, eyes wide above their fingers. Escalus makes a startled sound. If I am at all surprised, it is that it was Pidge to voice the sentiment first. They had seemed to me to be more wary than Lance, though they had warmed easier after we shot down the Galra Empire’s attack.

“Pidgeon! Do you… like them?” Lance’s gasp is mock-horrified, one hand clapped to his chest. “But it’s been forever since you actually liked people! Quick, I need a thermometer. I think they’re sick!”

I meet Escalus’s gaze as Pidge laughs and pushes Lance back when he leans in to inspect their face, raising the back of his hand to their forehead to extend the show. My friend pointedly looks away from me, but not before I can see the way her expression has softened. She likes them too, these playful, dramatic humans. Which is good, I think. But I do need Escalus to apologize to Lance – because while neither of them was entirely in the right while trying to treat Shiro’s injuries earlier, she hurt him when she snapped at him.

“Alright,” I say, forming an idea. “The tatin is ready. Escalus, can you and Lance set the table for four? I’m going to help Pidge over there. And collect a few more chairs, so we can all sit comfortably together.” I meet my friend’s eyes as I step closer to Pidge, holding her gaze long enough to mouth _‘apologize’_ to her, then I wrap an arm around Pidge’s waist, helping them slide off the counter and keeping them steady for the six steps to the table. Sounds of stilted, uncomfortable conversation start up behind us, but I make a point of ignoring the words. Pidge opens their mouth to say or ask something, glancing back over their shoulder then up to me, though my forward-fixed expression seems to be enough of a deterrent. “Don’t worry kid,” I murmur, delivering them to the only chair currently set at the table. They sit, vague concern taking up residence on their face. I lean in to offer reassurance before starting to gather the other chairs. “She’s making things right again.”

I’m not sure what emotion Pidge’s acknowledging sound is supposed to convey, but it does sound somewhat comforted. A few ticks later, as I lift a box of odds and ends off another of the chairs, Lance plops his salad down on the table with a grin that looks genuine. “Bon appétit,” he says in an awful exaggerated French accent that my translator doesn’t bother to touch. He sweeps an arm behind his back, dropping into a deep bow that makes Pidge shake their head.

“I thought French was supposed to be similar to Spanish,” they say in a tired tone that implies this is a conversation the two have had before.

“Not as similar as you might think!” The boy takes a deep breath to continue on, but I quickly speak up first.

“Lance, setting the table?” My reminder is carefully light, almost playful over strict.

His eyes widen, as if he had honestly forgotten. “Ooh, right, yes that is right! I was doing that!” He spins about, bouncing back towards the counter where Escalus has placed piles of plates, sporks, and cups to be moved to the table.

I shake my head, a smile on my face as I continue exposing chairs and carrying them across the room. I do like them, for all that I’ve only known them for a few varga. They’re both quirky, in their own ways, and the prospect of learning more about humans and their planet is very much appealing, considering any information Escalus and I have is close to fifty deca-phoebs old. And while I don’t know exactly how they’re fighting against the Galra Empire, they are admirably optimistic even when injured and worried for their friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unf more filler I guess
> 
> wanted to get to exciting conversation and swapping stories over supper, but that was gonna make this an absolute monster chapter compared to the others, so that'll be next chappie
> 
> also this is officially my Camp NaNoWriMo (primary) work for the month
> 
> NaNo's great, check it out if you don't know what it is, it might be something you want to get in on


	9. Your Story, My Story... Our Story

With Lance redirected to his task of setting the table, it only takes a few ticks to get everything set up for four people to eat supper all at once, and we’re sitting down together shortly. Escalus portions out the food evenly to start, because neither of us have any idea how much the two humans actually need to eat.

Once they have their food in front of them, both Pidge and Lance dig in, making pleased sounds. I watch for a couple doboshes to be certain that they don’t have negative reactions, but no immediate detrimental effects are visible, so they’re probably fine. Lance takes a breath after several bites and moans, turning bright eyes on Pidge and beginning to wax poetic about non-goo food, which they appear to tune out in favour of working steadily through the food on their plate. I smile, finally dropping my gaze and spork to my own portion.

“Lance,” Escalus says, gently cutting the tirade off. “Perhaps we could engage in conversation together, instead of simply serenading the sustenance?” Her tone is friendly, and I know she’s looking for conversation both to learn more about our guests and to help keep her awake. I’m curious as well, though I let her take the lead on getting their story – when she isn’t hyperfocused, she’s very good at prodding people to talk.

“What do you want to talk about?” Lance’s dark eyes have zeroed in on Escalus, as if by speaking she invited his entire focus to fall upon her. “The weather? It seems nice here so far, but we’ve heard and seen some crazy things. Glass rain, hailstorms in open space-”

“It wasn’t just open space, there was a young solar system,” Pidge mutters tiredly, and the way Lance fondly rolls his eyes makes me think they’re just being contrary, no matter how factual their comment.

He continues on, as if there was no interruption. “- acid just under the planet’s crust, a planet that literally grows crystals, boiling rock rain…”

At that, I straighten with a start, and there is a small clatter across the table as Escalus drops her spork. I raise my gaze to meet hers. The lost look in her eyes tells me she knows exactly which planet that phenomenon belonged to, just as well as I do. “Altea,” I say softly, and Escalus’s exhale is almost a sigh. “Have you ever been to Ustrader? Or Iatradey?” Lance’s expression is blank, telling me without a word that he hasn’t heard of either, beyond perhaps my previous mention of Iatradey. I press my lips together, reluctant to allow my hopes to form assumptions. “How did you learn about the vaporized rock showers?”

“Coran,” Pidge answers, setting their spork down. “He’s always making the weirdest metaphors and talking about things and places we’ve never heard of. Which would be fine, if there was some way I could look up some of that stuff, but Altean learning programs are a bitch, so I still don’t know most of those places.”

“But that one, none of us will ever see,” Escalus says, apparently having found her voice. “But who’s Coran? Is he part of the rebellion, to know of so many different planets?” Pidge and Lance share a look, and Pidge shrugs. Lance takes a deep breath, dropping his own spork into his empty plate, and I get the feeling Pidge has just given him permission to tell us everything.

“He’s not really part of the rebellion? I mean, I guess we’re all rebels, but not like _the_ rebellion.” He runs a hand through his hair and leans back in his chair before continuing, and the rest of us stay quiet, letting him find the words he wants. “Maybe I should start at the beginning, huh? Alright.” His gaze wanders behind Escalus, towards my sleep space where Shiro is laid out, then he glances to Pidge.

“Earth then,” They prompt, digging at their food again.

“Right. So basically, us three and a couple other humans, Keith and Hunk, were chilling in the desert back on Earth and came across some weird stuff that led us to a cave where the Blue Lion was hidden. And then she took us out in space, to this cute little planet called Arus where we found an old Altean castle. Actually, it’s called the Castle of Lions, and there were two Alteans there who sent us out to get the other Lions which, let me tell you, that was kind of crazy, don’t trust Coran when he says it’s a peaceful planet, just don’t. Also, don’t trust the finger counting.” He pauses for breath and to huff at Pidge, who is smirking at their plate. Escalus and I are nearly completely still, absorbing the parts of the story Lance is telling – and it’s clear that he’s skipping over pieces of information, whether because they’re unimportant or he’s trying to retain some protection for the other persons not present. “So anyways, Coran and Allura – the other Altean – have been kind of sending us out on quests to fight the Galra and stuff.” Allura… but, that’s the name that the history courses said…

Lance continues talking, but my ears are closed off to any new information after that bombshell. “You- You said ‘Allura’, like…” When I can’t find the words, my sentence trails off. Escalus makes a little whiny sound into the quiet and drops her head back, staring at the ceiling. “Princess Allura, daughter of Alfor, Altea’s last king and creator of- of the- Quiznak. Escalus.” I’m breathless, turning wide eyes on my friend. How the frak did I fail to realize? “The quiznaking Voltron Lions. I- I was-” It’s my turn to let out an intelligible sound, though it’s more of a high pitched keen as I realize that I have been in… More than that, I _piloted_ one of the fraking Voltron Lions. “Oh my stars, I think I need to- Nope, already sitting down. Right.” I drop my forehead to the table, focusing on my breaths because I can feel overwhelming panic threatening.

“Uhh Clarence?” Lance asks, his concerned voice sounding like it’s coming from farther away than just across the table. I bite my lower lip to keep from making another high pitched sound, feeling my fingers twitch in my lap.

A breath of wind rolls over me, and another. Black. I still can’t believe that- that the fraking Black Lion let me- mm nope. She’s there, in the back of my mind, but I force myself to focus on the wind and indistinct sense of birdsong rather than the fact of her presence. It’s okay. This is okay, this is- this is crazy, quiznaking insane, but… Black is there, tenderly curling part of her quintessence around me without quite touching me. Just reassuring, protecting. She huffs softly, and I begin to realize what she already noticed, that I’m calming down.

There’s a warm weight on my shoulders, and when I open my eyes I’m surprised that I’m not breathing in the fluffy fabric that is draped over my back and head, coming barely an inch away from my face.

“Clarence cherie?” Escalus asks hesitantly, and I realize she’s got a hand pressed between my shoulderblades, her usual comforting gesture.

“Mmnn. ‘mokay,” I mumble, reaching up to grasp the edges of the fluffy fabric and draw it tighter around my neck. Escalus’s hand slides up and down my back a little and I consciously relax my shoulders.

I breathe slowly.

I flew the Black Lion, head of Voltron.

The Black Lion decided my quintessence was a close enough match to let me connect with her while her chosen pilot was injured and unconscious.

She’s still there, on the edge of my awareness, staying close and holding the connection between us steady. She… trusts me. At that realization, I take a deep breath and lift my head, feeling the marks on my cheekbones and arms glowing warmly. Well, the humans shared their story with us, so the exchange is only fair if we share ours with them.

I straighten fully in my chair, pushing the fabric off my head while still holding it securely around my shoulders. Lance’s breath hisses in through his teeth, and he stares shamelessly at the lilac coloured crescents under the outer corners of my eyes. That’s right, he hadn’t had a chance to see them in person earlier, just Pidge. Though they’re staring too, and I force myself to speak before I lose the resolve. “Ten thousand deca-phoebs ago, Zarkon destroyed the planet Altea. The king and princess, and their advisor, were reportedly lost, as was most of the population. About thirty-seven thousand Alteans escaped, many of them finding refuge on a planet called Ustrader. A few thousand of them ended up on another planet, farther from the system where Altea had been. They called that one Iatradey. Eventually, they established trade and travel routes between the two, increasing the genetic pool, but by then many Alteans were choosing to begin families of their own with other races. Nowadays, there are only two pure blooded Alteans remaining, though Iatradey and Ustrader would not know that.”

“Clarence and I grew up, mostly, on Iatradey,” Escalus says, still a supportive body behind me. “It was weird, knowing on some level that we were children of the lost planet Altea but that we were the only two who truly looked like the ancient Alteans anymore.”

“Whoakay, question,” Lance says, one hand raised. “Why are you the only two who look like Alteans?”

Escalus huffs and pats my shoulder, letting me know this one is mine to answer as she moves back to her chair. I sigh. “It would seem that human genetics are generally dominant over other races. Except for Altean.”

Silence reigns over the table, Pidge staring blankly ahead as if trying to consider the science of my explanation, while Lance looks shocked. “Wait,” he finally says, propping an elbow on the table to gesticulate wildly and inarticulately. “Wait, so you’re- You were on Earth? Well not you exactly, but your parents? That’s, that is-” He eventually lets out an anguished sound.

I find a smile breaking over my face. “I was eight deca-phoebs – years – old when my mama and Escalus’s father managed to get the ship working well enough to leave. Escalus was only four, so she doesn’t remember anything, but I… I can remember the fireworks on Bastille Day, a little café, Papa’s dogs. We couldn’t hide ourselves forever though, and so we had to leave. It took several phoebs to cross the galaxy, but we made our new home on Iatradey, the four of us, and our parents taught us what they had learned back on Earth.”

“We dreamed of going back,” Escalus offers, gazing past the table, likely as she thinks of the photos our parents had managed to bring when they left Earth. “It would physically be easier, now that we can control what little of the old Altean shifting ability that we inherited, but we don’t have a very good idea of where Earth even is.”

“It’s better not.” My words are firm. We’ve had this discussion before, and we always come around to the same conclusion. Returning would be a sign to the Galra Empire and as much as we both want to know that half of our heritage, our family, it isn’t worth the danger the trip would invite. “Besides,” I turn my gaze to Pidge, and Lance, smiling at them, “there are humans who are out discovering just how big the universe is, and we have an opportunity to learn from them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoooomigosh this one's super long compared to the others because hey _finally discussing stuff_ and man oh man I did not expect that conversation to end up being so loooong
> 
> on the plus side I feel like I stumbled on to Lance's character in this chapter and he's less OOC??


	10. Need vs Want

“Tell me something about Earth,” Escalus says – almost demands – as she leans across the table towards Pidge, who blinks wide eyes.

“Uhh, there’s, I mean we, um…” They look startled as they meet my friend’s expectant gaze, clearly unprepared for the excited request. Their eyes slide sideways, to Lance. I’m not surprised. While Escalus may not have seen it, I had noticed the way Pidge’s gaze repeatedly unfocused while Lance was telling their story.

“There’s a ton of stuff that’s happened in the last fifteen to twenty years,” he says, only briefly glancing at Pidge as he rescues them. “Is there anything particular you want to know?”

“Tell me about – hmm, actually, do you have any tablets from Earth? Or other interactive tech devices?” Escalus’s eyes are sparkling as she pares down her excitement a little to request something more specific. That look means that she’s beginning a mental list of everything she wants from these humans, though I suspect she isn’t taking into consideration that their planet will not be as technologically advanced as Ustrader or Iatradey. It was luck that had our parents end up on Earth, luck that they were close enough to a planet with a breathable atmosphere to land their failing ship, luck that they were found by humans who chose friendliness and kindness over fear of something unknown.

“Not on us,” Lance admits. “Pidge has their laptop and stuff on the Castleship, and most of us had our phones on us when we found Blue, but with the Paladin armour there’s no need to carry that stuff around. Not that we really use any of our phones anymore, not since Pidge adapted some Altean devices to work in English, which was pretty dang awesome!” His praise falls on tired ears though, and the way Pidge’s gaze has been fixed half-lidded on some indeterminate point beyond Escalus’s head for several ticks makes me think they probably didn’t hear a word of what Lance just said.

“I think someone needs to go to bed,” I suggest softly, shifting to throw Escalus a questioning look. The intensity in her expression fades, and she blinks a few times as if just realizing she should go to sleep as well. She smiles a little, and nods, confirming my thought. “They good with you?” Not that I expect Escalus to be weird about sharing her bed, but when she gets especially tired I can’t predict her as well.

She nods again, rising from her seat. “I’ll just grab some extra pillows and blankets.”

“They’re all already there,” I shoot back, grinning at my friend’s responding huff. “Okay. Pidge?”

“No.” The reply, short as it is, is mostly alert and entirely petulant. I’m surprised. That’s the type of response I’d get from the kids back home, and on very odd occasion Escalus. I glance to Lance, catching the roll of his eyes, coupled with a soft smile. “I need to check on Green, I haven’t even looked at her diagnostic to see what damage I’m going to have to fix-”

“Seriously Pidgey, you wanna do it that way today of all days?” He twists around in his seat, reaching for something on the nearby crate-table, bringing it in front of him, and I can see that it’s one of Escalus’s work gloves. Lance hefts it in one hand, tosses it in the air a little, Pidge’s eyes watching suspiciously. “You can barely walk on your own. Would you even make it all the way down the path back to the cavern? And then we’d find you in the morning, passed out in Green’s cockpit, if you’re that lucky.” This seems to be earning the opposite of the desired effect – Pidge’s gaze is sharp, their mouth a harsh line as they plant their hands on the table, ready to get up. But before they can, Lance throws the glove at them, and they blink, face blank as it sails by, their hand coming up a tick too late to have any hope of catching, or even touching, it.

Pidge wilts, dropping back down into their chair. “Fine, bed,” they grumble and cross their arms loosely.

“Shall we then?” Escalus asks as she slips closer to the table at their side, offering an arm. I glance across the table to Lance, watching him as he watches our friends slowly leave the table, shuffle-walking to Escalus’s sleep space.

I’m trying to decide how I can convince him to take the chance to sleep as well. He looks less tense, less like there’s a world of responsibility on his shoulders, as Pidge collapses on the bed, curling up and wrapping themselves in a blanket while also claiming three or four pillows for their own. Escalus is sitting on the edge of her bed, half turned to keep her gaze on Pidge. She waits for a few quiet ticks, then turns back to the table to give us a smile and a nod. Pidge is asleep then. My friend drags off her sweater and boots, then stretches out beside Pidge, careful to leave some space between them in case the human is uncomfortable with it, but their smaller body shifts backwards with a soft sound, leaning against Escalus.

Lance and I turn to the table almost in sync, both sighing lightly. Yeah, we probably both need some sleep, but only one of us was involved in close-quarter fighting today, whereas for me, it was a mostly regular day. I take a breath to say something, but Lance beats me to it. “Alright, now that the kids are asleep, someone actually should go check on the lions. I nominate me, by virtue of all other available paladins being, well, unconscious. Soo, I’ll be back in a bit!” He stands up a little too quickly and I can tell by the way he braces his palms on the table and blinks rapidly.

“What you should do is get some rest yourself,” I say warningly, but not standing yet. “Lack of sleep does nothing for emotional turmoil or for focus. I saw the particle barriers just as well as you did, the Lions will be fine for the night.”

“But-” Lance says, and he looks like he’s trying to decide which part of my advice to counter.

Now I stand, reaching across the table to take Lance’s plate, then Pidge’s, gathering them all together to make a stack. “I’ve got this, go sleep with the others.”

“But- but Pidge is, they’re- And Escalus is a girl! You’re an adult, aren’t you supposed to order me to sleep in a different bed than girls?” He’s grasping at straws, and I’m happy to disappoint his cultural expectations.

“Why? It’s just sleep, you know that you don’t have to worry about either of them being weirded out, right?” I turn away, moving to put the dishes into the washer, and I can hear the sound of footsteps that means Lance is rounding the table to stick beside me.

“But I mean, shouldn’t- Shouldn’t someone, uh, go…” He’s incredibly reluctant to sleep, and I’m only just realizing that it’s not about concern for the lions or sleeping next to a woman. It’s something else.

I grab a cloth, wiping my hands as I turn to lean my back against the counter and face Lance. He drops his gaze, looking to the side, his eyes roaming over the room as if looking for something to help him. “What is it? Really, I can tell there’s something truly bothering you.”

His eyes flicker up to my face for an instant, then away. He crosses his arms, fingers tapping as his shoulders unconsciously huddle forwards. Finally, he speaks, still not properly meeting my gaze. “I just- I don’t want to, to see that again, what happened today.”

That’s fair. Escalus has her share of night terrors, and she’s never quite herself the morning after. “Okay. That’s fine.” His head whips up, eyes wide as he stares. I twist, putting my cloth down on the counter. When I turn back, he’s still staring. “What, you thought I was going to force you into sleep when you’re obviously that stressed about it? No way, that’s not healthy. And it would make me a pretty bad host, to make you do something you don’t want to.”

“Oh. Uh yeah, that, that makes sense.” His arms uncross, and instead he twists his fingers in the shirt he’s wearing. He’s at a loss for what to do now, if he’s skipping out on bedtime, and I am too.

Except, both humans were citing the apparent need to check on the lions. And if the outing exhausts Lance further and he reaches the point that he does want to rest, well… “Shall we go visit the Lions together then?”


	11. There's Only Peace Here

“Are you content?” I ask, staying an arms length behind Lance where he’s sitting on Blue’s paw. It looks less than comfortable, but he seems to consider it as good as a bed, his body sprawled and arms thrown loosely to the sides.

“Mmm,” he says in response, and Black huffs a laugh, nudging at the oceans. A tick later, Lance starts sliding forward, towards the ground. A moment more, and I can see the angle of Blue’s paw change, spilling her paladin out across the ground, and he wakes the rest of the way up. “Blue!” he screeches, rolling over and dropping a hand on his chest. “Betrayal!” There’s an audible silence, then he sits bolt upright. “Don’t you laugh! What have I done to you? You were my favourite, but with stunts like that…” I step forwards to offer him a hand up, smiling widely at his antics. Black feels amused as well, and she passes on a sense of the oceans singing cheerfully. He grabs my hand and I pull him up easily as he continues to glare at his Lion.

“I don’t think she’s going to apologize any time soon.” Black continues to be amused. I suspect Blue is as well, because Lance’s glare is starting to twitch in favour of a smile.

“Oh yes she will! One of these times…” His last statement is muttered but the heat is gone, his tone almost entirely fond.

I’m struck by a certain odd feeling, like at once I both belong here without doubt but that I also don’t, that I’m not really supposed to be here. Lance looks relaxed, far more so than I have seen him so far, his face open and the stresses of the day melted off his lanky frame. “Is it worth it?” I ask abruptly, wondering if he feels the same, like… like these ancient lions were built in a different time yet somehow fitting perfectly into the moment, and we mortals are the odd ones out.

“Hmm?” He turns questioningly.

“The Lions… Being Blue’s chosen Paladin, going out to fight the Galra Empire day after day, being away from your home without really having the choice about going back… Is that worth it?” I try to convey the pure curiosity of my question – I don’t want him to feel that I’m manipulating him, or that I think he’s less than right in his choices, I just… want to know.

Lance hums, leaning forward to pat Blue’s paw then swinging our still-clasped hands as he straightens. “I’m gonna level with you here Clarence… I don’t know if I can really answer that. I mean, if you ask me when I’m up in Blue, fully bonded with her and flying, or even just sitting there together, I don’t think I would be able to say no.” He takes a few steps, turning us and walking at a slow but comfortable pace, and I feel the softness of his hands, the slight strength in his grip, the wistfulness that comes through in the way he holds my hand a little tighter than necessary, like he’s remembering holding someone else’s hand. “Sometimes I think about Earth. It’s only been four and a half movements, you know? As far as anyone back home knows, we’ve been missing for that time. It just- that hurts, sometimes, thinking about how none of my family knows that I’m alive and safe, you know? And Earth doesn’t have a clue about what’s going on up here, how there’s a war that’s been going on for thousands of years, how there’s life out here, so much life and it’s so incredibly diverse, and we humans hadn’t imagined any of it-” He glances sideways to me, then away quickly, ashamed or embarrassed. “I’m sorry, that’s way more than you asked.”

“Hey.” I stop walking, holding tight to his hand to force him into stopping as well. Someone, somewhere, sometime, had told this boy that he talks too much, and he hasn’t learned how to push past throwaway comments like that. “That’s valid. Alright? All of it. I think I understand, some of that at least. Iatradey was… home, but it never felt like it was quite everything. Like there was something, just missing.”

“Lacuna,” Lance says thoughtfully, squeezing my hand gently before starting to swing it again. “A blank space, a missing part.” It sounds like he’s quoting a lexicon, but also… like he knows precisely what it feels like.

I nod, looking in the direction we were walking, restarting our movement towards the tunnel back to the house. “Lacuna,” I say, testing the way the word sounds rolling off my own tongue. There’s another word I know that also seems to apply, tucked away in my mind that I probably picked up from reading some of the older Altean text translations. “Yes, in turns with monachopsis I think.” Lance nods, as if he recognizes the word, so I don’t bother explaining it. We both slow as we approach the tunnel, and I twist to look over Green, Blue, and Black, feeling as though they are content and reassured, just as Lance is. “Although here, with you three, with the Lions, it seems… Yes, it’s definitely less.” It could simply be having something and someone novel and fresh around, but I think it’s deeper than that. I think my soul feels closer to complete with the thought of Earth, with Black’s steady presence at the back of my mind. “Stars, Escalus was right. I like you guys, more than I probably should after only half a quintant.”

Lance laughs, the sound bright and full and I find myself smiling, startled a little when he leans in to bump his shoulder against mine. “We like you guys too. Well, as much as we can with Shiro being unconscious and Pidge exhausted… Alright, I shouldn’t try to speak for either of them. I like you guys.”

“That settles it then, you can all be family now.”

“Ohana,” he snickers, moving forwards into the tunnel and Black urging me to step with him, both of us hopeful that he’s calm enough to consider sleep now. “Ohana means family, and family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten.” Again, he’s quoting something. Black whuffles a birdsong-laugh, oceans filtered through Black to lap at the very edge of my awareness and she offers the idea of rocks cracking together softly. That must be something Lance associates with the Yellow Lion's paladin, and valuable enough that Lance thinks it is worth sharing with me.

“Ohana,” I repeat. It’s a lovely, flowing word, and it feels good as we wander along the tunnel, coming up into the house quicker than I feel we should, after such a slow, relaxing time with the Lions.

I release Lance to a chair and check the computers briefly, just to be certain there is nothing within the range of our scanners that has begun sneaking up on the house. There is indeed nothing, no change from a varga – or two actually – ago, before we went to the Lions. I turn back, seeing Lance staring across the room at Escalus’s sleep space where she and Pidge have curled together, both looking comfortable and peaceful in their arrangement.

“Pidge really needs this,” he comments suddenly, tearing his gaze away from the sleepers. “They just, they get into something, and next thing you know they’ve been working on running data or upgrading Green and they’ve been there for eight straight varga and haven’t had a thing to eat. Or they pass out with their laptop or something still clutched in their hands.” His fingers twist together, then he consciously smooths his palms over his legs. “They needed to actually relax.”

“Well,” I say, and he starts, apparently not expecting a response, “I’m pleased we are able to offer that. Relaxation, if not sleep.” He nods, blinking slowly. Just a small push, and he’ll easily keel over into sleep himself, I’m sure. I walk over to the kettle, pouring three to four cupfuls of hot water in to a ceramic pitcher and tossing in golden root, kava, and an herb mix from Ustrader. “Tea?” I asked, turning back to Lance with two cups in hand. He tilts his head, alert enough to be curious, then shrugs and nods. I pour the two cups, coming back to hand one to Lance and pull a chair over from the table. “Drink up, it’s good for you.” Without hesitation I do so, taking a small sip of the hot tea. I drop into my chair with a content sigh. The household – those recently, unofficially, adopted included – are all relaxed, comfortable, safe for the night, and I will take the duty to watch over them all even though it was never discussed. Someone should, to be able to more easily maintain that calm unless and until absolutely necessary.

I take another sip, then glance at my companion. He’s slouched a little in his chair, cup carefully vertical in his hands even as he looks blankly ahead of him.

“Do you feel up to more story time?” I ask softly, watching Lance turn his head slowly to face me. He blinks, shrugs, and finally nods, giving me permission to continue, to ask one of the many questions that have been swirling in my head, half formed since the discussion at supper. “Can you tell me something about Princess Allura?”

“She’s pretty great,” he says immediately, then pauses to figure out what he wants to say. “She’s an incredible person, really, and I’m not just saying that because she’s crazy beautiful. She knows so much about space and the different planets and species we come across. She’s a pretty skilled fighter and does not hesitate to shove us into drills or training at any time of the day or night. But that’s really helped us grow together, I think.

“When we first met- Well, she and Coran had gone into cryosleep shortly before Altea was destroyed. That’s how they survived. And then they wake, and the welcoming party is us four kids plus Shiro who had literally just followed the lights through this weird, empty, silent castle until we got to that room. They uh, were not terribly impressed at first, and it took a little while to sink in, you know, that Altea was ten thousand years gone, and the Galra have been basically ruling the universe ever since then.”

“That would be quite a shock,” I muse, noticing the way Lance slides a little lower in his chair when he stops speaking. We both take another drink of our tea, and I almost want to laugh at the way his eyes drift closed. This boy is so close to sleep; now, I think the only thing holding him back is the chair he’s sitting in and the fact that it is certainly not a soft, horizontal surface.

I wait a few doboshes more, idly grabbing pulling out my tablet and reading through some of our recent diagnostics, comparing the numbers to waste a little more time. When Lance finishes his tea and slumps further, chin dropping to his chest, I put the tablet down. “Alright, shall we get you somewhere a little more comfortable?” As further proof to how sleepy he is, there is no resistance as I take his cup, setting it beside my own and the tablet, then lift him, inserting myself at his side. I nearly carry him across the room, setting him on the far side of Escalus’s bed, careful to avoid squishing any fingers or toes. “Here, how’s this hmm?” I am careful to keep my voice at a low murmur, and Lance easily tips over, fingers clutching a blanket when I pull it over his body.

“Di’ you drug me?” he asks, the question more plaintive than condemning, and I can’t help but smile.

“No cherie, I had the exact same drink you did. It was just something to relieve stress and to promote good mood.” I sit on the edge of the bed, lifting a hand to smooth his hair back from his face. It curls, just a little, and is softer than I would have expected as the strands twist around my fingers. “You’re not completely exhausted like Pidge, but you seriously need sleep. The only question was if you were ever going to be calm enough to get any.” He frowns, but the expression is a half hearted attempt at best, and it threatens to slide off his face. “Let yourself rest here. I’m going to keep watch over the scanners tonight, sunrise will be in six and a half varga. Lance. I’ll wake you first if anything happens.” I watch as he forces his eyes open for long enough to meet my gaze. “Ça va?”

“Sí, tha’s fine I suppose…” Deep blue eyes finally settle closed and Lance exhales heavily before his breathing evens and softens.

I twist a little farther, looking at Lance still but Pidge and Escalus as well. My friend has apparently missed having younger – and smaller – housemates to cuddle up with for sleep, and Pidge seems no stranger to the concept, their arm flung over Escalus’s waist, their mop of hair tucked into Escalus’s shoulder. I have no doubt, if he stays asleep long enough, that he’ll be assimilated into the cuddle pile. I sigh quietly, levering myself up off the bed. It’s good to see such peacefulness in the faces and bodies of persons who have to deal in such violence and unthinking hatred. I still haven’t asked, but I’m more sure in this moment than any others previous – these two are young, certainly younger than Escalus and I, even if typical species lifespan differences are factored in. This should not be their war.

And yet it is. They were chosen for these roles, chosen by a process none of us living understand fully, chosen to play a part that not everyone could. I even feel as though I pulled Escalus from her careless youth earlier than I should have- But she grabbed my hand and held on tight, ordering me to take her with me from school to school to apprenticeship to space, and if she were not with me through all that, I would not be in the same position of wellbeing that I am.

I sigh again, turning away from the bed. This is our reality, our war, and we all devote ourselves to fighting for the freedom of others because their lives are worth just as much as our own. Because someone has to fight for those who can’t, and we can, so we might as well be the ones.

Walking along the wall, I pause a moment to watch Shiro, considering him for several ticks. His face is still slack, body limp precisely the way Escalus had arranged him while tending his injuries, the metal of his right arm glinting in the half light.

Right now, these four are unfit to fight. So for now, I will do it for them - I will do everything in my power to keep them safe in my house while they get some much needed sleep.

At last, I turn to the computer array, waking it all with a touch. The scanners are clear for now, and for tonight I am the guardian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> phew, took a few days to actually sit down and finish writing this chapter... had a plan for it, but the Lions wanted some screen time and things got away from me...
> 
> also also gues whO'S FINALLY MAKING A COHERENT APPEARANCE IN THE NEXT CHAPTER (which is pretty much all written, just gotta reread and do any necessary neatening up first)


	12. Everything Will Be... Fine

I shifted my focus from watching the scanners intently for any minute change to gathering my sewing project up in my lap about half a varga ago. It’s a jacket – designed for someone around Pidge’s size, grey so pale it’s almost white, with mixed red and yellow stitching. As long as Avilian hasn’t developed any new physical marks of their ancestry since we left Iatradey, it should fit her well, with enough space to grow with her for a few more deca-phoebs. It’s a gift for her Naming… which is in eleven quintants. We probably won’t make it.

Taking a deep breath, I sigh, closing my eyes for a moment. At least Escalus’s mother will be there, so the kid will have her primary parent figure to coddle her on the quintant, but still – Escalus kept hoping over this last phoeb, while I kept sweeping my gaze over the ship, cataloguing outstanding repairs and estimating the time required, which was ‘too much’ almost from the first day. We’ll be fly-ready within the next phoeb if nothing goes terribly wrong, but it won’t be the same.

There’s a sound, and I pile the jacket in one hand, standing quickly to check the scanners. There’s… nothing to see. No movement on the ground or in the sky, no ships approaching the atmosphere, no triggered alarms. I watch carefully for several ticks, but still no change.

Struck by a thought, I place the jacket on the table, half covering a keysboard but that’s irrelevant right now. I turn at a measured pace, keeping my eyes on Shiro. He doesn’t clearly show any evidence of waking. I step closer, cautious yet. He makes a sound accompanied by a small sigh.

“Shiro?” I say softly, watching as his eyelashes flutter. “Are you awake?” He seems to settle back into the bed, muscles relaxing and face falling into a neutral expression. Well, more sleep should do him good. Besides, it’s the middle of Zustratra’s night, and everyone else is still conked out. I sigh softly as I step back towards my desk, the breath making my hair waver a little. I should tie it up if I’m considering sleep yet, but I can’t quite rid myself of the nagging worry that the Galra will be back, whether it’s night or day here. So someone should stay fully alert, keep watch for-

I spin back on some instinct, raising my arms in front of my face defensively. Shiro is awake, up, and definitely clueless, his right arm frakking glowing a menacing purple as he faces me, wide eyes flickering beyond and around me quickly as if looking for something or someone.

“It- it’s okay, you’re – I’m not-” I stumble over my words while flinching backwards, partially from the way he lunges forward but primarily from the roar that thunders through me. Wincing, I clap my hands to my ears, biting my lip to keep from shrieking as the thunder slowly dissolves into a warning growl that echoes for several ticks before falling silent.

“Wha- But- what?” The voice that breaks the silence is breathless, uncertain, scared.

I crack my eyes open, hands hovering above my ears as I slowly lift my head. Shiro’s gaze is darting around, right hand metallic greys again in the room’s ambient light and grasping at the blankets on the bed as he cringes back against it, his entire body poised to take flight. Not that he would know the direction to escape.

“Let’s try again?” I suggest softly, focusing on taking even breaths as I uncurl my body slowly, watching Shiro. He is carefully still, eyes finally resting on me. “Hi, my name’s Clarence. Lance and Pidge are sleeping just over there, with a friend of mine.” I raise an arm, pointing towards the blankets and extra pillows piled together in Escalus’s sleep space, three lumps huddled together and breathing softly within the soft fabrics.

Shiro’s shoulders drop, and he exhales, hard and unsteady. His chest heaves, eyes drop closed. “Galra- I thought that- They almost-” His broken sentences choke off in favour of concentrating on breathing, which is good because the physiological arousal is only going to mess with his healing if it continues at this rate.

“There are no Galra on this planet. Not now, anyways. You’re safe here, and so are your teammates.” 

“But I was-” His face twists, eyes still firmly closed as he slowly shakes his head. “Are they okay? Are you sure? Pidge forgets sometimes, if they get excited about something, and Lance doesn't- Are they really okay, both of them?”

I’m worried the emotional turmoil he’s failing to completely cover up is only going to result in him collapsing again, not that I would have to carry him far if he did. “Can we sit?” I ask, mindful of the way Shiro’s body has begun to tremble, so slight that I almost can’t see it, but Black is a noisy and concerned presence at the back of my mind.

He jerks his head in a nod, and I step closer, coming to his side slowly then turning and sitting on the edge of my bed. Releasing the blankets from his death grip, he follows suit a tick later, easing himself down as if worried something is going to jump up and bite him.

“Pidge is exhausted, and it was affecting them both mentally and physically,” I say in a gentle tone, suspecting that if I stay calm and collected, it will help the young man beside me to relax. “They sprained an ankle, and their left shoulder is sore and bruised from a skimming blaster shot. Lance is fine physically, a little sore and possibly minorly concussed, but mostly just tired with a large helping of guilt. You,” at this I turn my torso just far enough to see Shiro staring across the room to the other sleeping space, “are the worst off.” He turns to face me now, his expression carefully arranged into one of vague interest – like he knows he should care, but can’t quite bring himself to properly do so. “Blaster shots to your right shoulder and chest, a concussion, left shoulder dislocated, left arm fractured near the wrist, left ankle sprained as well.” His mouth drops open before I even finish the list. “You’re going to be rather sore for the next several quintants.”

“What… happened to me?”

I smirk. “A wall, according to Pidge.” I pause to let him blink as that sinks in. “Though if you ask Lance, the answer would be something more like his lack of skill or helplessness, if he’s comfortable enough to give a truly honest reply.”

“I should talk to him about-” Shiro says, rising off the bed, but I quickly reach out and grab his arm around the elbow.

“You should let your body rest,” I respond, letting a thread of authority bleed into my voice. “They’re both sleeping now, which took longer than it should have to be honest, and your body will heal better with sleep, just like the others.” He settles reluctantly, gaze once more glued to the sleeping trio. I nudge his elbow lightly. “Hey. If I’m reading him right, this isn’t new, and it can wait a little while longer. Sunrise is in about three varga.” I fall quiet for a moment, watching as Shiro’s urgency blows away. “He’ll still be here when you wake up.”

“But he’s- both of them, they’re my responsibility,” Shiro whispers, voice just short of breaking. “If he needs… I should-”

I stand, pivoting to place myself directly in front of the human. “At the moment, you are guests in my house, so I’d say you all are my responsibility right now.” His brows come together as he gapes up at me, though that probably has something to do with the way that Black seems to be lending me her support and authority in the matter.

“Uh, okay,” he stammers, looking confused as his shoulders slump in tiredness. “But… what’s this about?” A mechanical arm rises, gesturing aimlessly in the space between us, but I think I understand what he’s referring to.

“The Black Lion?” I sigh, feeling a little tired myself. “Yeah, so uh, that’s a thing? But it’s another thing that can wait until after sunrise, as I will still be here also.” Black’s attention fades from me, but not before I catch a hint of birdsong and breeze that I’m beginning to recognize as her equivalent of a purr. I watch as Shiro sighs, raising his hands to rub at his face as well as he can with the left braced and splinted. He slides back, farther on to the bed, then smoothly swings his legs up, finally giving in.

I turn away, satisfied that he will fall asleep as soon as he allows himself. Although his voice abruptly sounds from behind me, and I almost retract that confidence. “What about you? Aren’t you going to sleep?”

I huff, amused despite myself. I can understand why Pidge had referred to him a few times as ‘Dad.’ “I had a nap earlier, now I’m keeping watch.” So what if that nap was hardly more than a varga? Turning to meet his eyes, I smile, feeling a protective sense wash over me from Black. She agrees with what I’m doing. “The Galra followed you three shortly after you crashed. We destroyed them, but I’m sure they’ll be back, and they won’t care whether it’s day or night here. Someone should stay alert in case they return.”

Shiro’s eyes are sharp and clear as he still struggles against the fatigue that has overtaken his body simply from lying back down. I can see that he wants to disagree, wants to force me to sleep while he stays up and watches over us all, but I can also tell that the events of the previous quintant coupled with his current injuries won’t let him.

“Sleep, Shiro. Everything will be fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> awwmigosh so excited that the scene I used for a summary-excerpt is finally fully released!!
> 
> seriously I had this pretty much written up back when I was still struggling through ch 4 or something, just working and working and working through the distance and conversations until we could reach this point!
> 
> (yay ~conscious Shiro?)  
> (kinda worried he's gonna be a lil OOC for a bit like I felt the others/Lance was, but I have the excuse of him being super banged up, exhausted probably, and also probably getting significantly more sleep than usual for him)


	13. Give Me (sneaky) Therapy?

Lance is awake first in the morning proper, scruffy hair slowly becoming visible above the haphazard pile of blankets-and-Pidge-and-Escalus.

“Good morning,” I say, pitching my words just loud enough to carry to him. He fully pops up then, swivelling to face me and blinking in my direction, and he actually looks quite dishevelled, hair curling more than it had last night, blanket crease mark on his cheek, shirt half off one shoulder.

“Morning?” he says in reply, voice rough from sleep. He glances down to the bed and his bedmates, a soft smile blooming as he sees my friend curled around his. Carefully picking his way around the two sleepers, Lance hops the short distance down to the floor then pads into the main room, ruffling his fingers through unruly hair. “Shiro?” he asks quietly, concern weaving into his voice and the set of his shoulders.

I glance over to my bed, even though I’m sure I know what I’ll see. “Still asleep. Woke up two varga ago. We talked a little, after I calmed him down.”

Lance’s expression is pinched, and I can’t quite tell what emotion is in control of his facial features. “Nightmare?”

Ah. “No, unless you count a memory skip fuelled by loss of conscious to a room and person he doesn’t recognize.” My words are light, and Lance sighs, though it seems to be in relief. I motion to the chair Escalus usually claims, the one nearest her personal tablet, and he takes it without hesitation. “I can’t imagine,” I say, choosing my words carefully, “what sort of nightmares someone might have, coming out of what he has experienced. Or rather, I can imagine a great deal of nightmare fodder, none of it what I would wish on anyone.” Lance’s head whips sideways to stare me down and I assume that an explanation is necessary, preferably quickly. “I took a guess – there aren’t very many humans off of your planet, after all.”

Lance huffs, dropping his head and shoving a hand into his hair, gripping sections of it. “Yeah,” he says, speaking to his legs. “Yeah, well.” There’s a drawn out pause, and I turn a fair bit of my attention back to the diagnostic results from Escalus’s tests the previous quintant. I read through a few lines, pleased that nothing yet was reported broken or burnt out by our repairs, then I glance back up to Lance.

“Hey.” He looks up after a tick, still in the process of schooling his expression. “You doing alright? I know it gets rough out here, fighting this fight.”

His dark eyes widen, as if he’s surprised that I picked up on his unease and self-blame. “Me? I’m great, peachy! Not that you know what peachy means, probably, I mean I haven’t seen anything out here that really looks like a peach. But that phrase doesn’t make much sense, anyways.” He draws in a quick breath, interrupting his own babbling. “Anyways. I’m- I’m fine.”

I put the diagnostic tablet to the side and stare him down. He gets restless after barely a tick, fingers thrumming against his thighs and gaze dropping to my knees. With a start, I realize this might be even harder than I thought. It’s possible that Lance doesn’t recognize the guilt he’s claiming, possible that he thinks he is blaming himself correctly. I breathe in, then out, collecting my thoughts. “It’s okay to, you know, not be ‘peachy’ all the time. I find that it’s really hard, actually, to keep yourself in that good headspace when so many things around you are conspiring against your wellbeing and the wellbeing of people you care for. It’s easier, sometimes – a lot of the time – to fake a smile. Sometimes even enough of the time that you forget what’s real.” Lance’s eyes rise as I talk, finally meeting my gaze and I force myself to not look away.

“Man,” he says at last, “are you a professional psychologist or something?”

A small frown flits on to my face, and I tilt my head a little, confused and showing it as I repeat the word. “’Psychologist?’”

“A uh, a person who helps people work through their mental problems.” He seems taken aback that the word he used didn’t translate properly, but his description is familiar to me.

“Therapist?”

Lance blinks, then a laugh bursts from him. “Seriously? I can’t use ‘psychologist’ but ‘therapist’ translates just fine?”

I smile. “Well, your translators are a little old. Even if Altean technology truly was as advanced as I understand it was, ten thousand deca-phoebs of nonuse is liable to have an effect.” I think back to consider his prior question, and almost laugh myself. “And actually, I only started training, but I was sort of on that path.” Lance gapes at me, blinking with his mouth open and I press my lips together, trying to keep control over the volume of our conversation by forcing myself to not laugh. Black rolls a huff through me instead, claiming some of my amusement for herself before nudging me in the side.

“Shiro?” Lance says, bouncing out of his chair before I can process the sound of movement on my bed. “Hey man, how are you doing?”

I stand myself, turning to watch as Lance strides across the distance to the bed, bouncing up to settle beside Shiro, who is already sitting upright and looking around, able to take in the space now that there’s more light. His grey eyes land on me, and I offer him a small smile when he looks between me and Lance.

“Morning,” I offer, abruptly struck by how pale he looks with Lance beside him, their skin in significant contrast even aside from the effect of Shiro’s injuries.

“Pidge?” Shiro asks, his voice a low rasp before he clears his throat and repeats.

I glance to the other sleep space. Pidge and Escalus are still curled up together, both getting some much needed rest. “Sleeping yet, though we ought to wake them before too long. There’s things we need to do today.”

Lance perks up, his head tipping. “Things?”

“Well Escalus and I haven’t just been sitting around since we landed on the planet. We had to rewire some of our ship, find stand-ins for a few parts. It’s getting close to voyage ready.” Shiro looks vaguely interested, but at the same time like he’s working through pain. “Hey, are either of you hungry? I can pull something out fairly quick.” Lance perks up, beginning to describe the food we prepared together last night. The taller man listens, half his attention on his friend while the other half is clearly wandering the space, considering the various furniture and technology and likely forming theories about us. He should be hungry, though, with no supper last night and the healing his body has already done. And even if he claims to not need anything to eat, I will feed that man, because he needs his strength. I can’t force health and wellbeing on anyone, but I can sure as frak do what I can to enable it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fillerrrrrr?...  
> morning! or at least far enough into the day that Clarence isn't gonna send anyone straight back to bed!  
> I've got a bit of a thought/vision for how the next few chapters are going to go, but almost nothing written yet. also, an exam Monday evening! so who knows when the next instalment will be released...


	14. Am I Getting Through

Having shoved both some food and hot caf at Shiro and Lance, I glance over to Escalus and Pidge. I know I should wake them soon, but I also know Pidge’s sleep was restless off and on, and I’d rather give them another varga. There’s nothing critical yet anyways, but I wonder if there’s something I might be able to accomplish while keeping Shiro and Lance out of trouble…

A thought occurs to me, and I turn my gaze back to the boys. “When is someone coming to get you?”

They stare blankly at me, their expressions startlingly synchronous. “Uh they aren’t, I mean, we were just going to find our way back to the Castleship?” Lance offers tentatively.

“Have you contacted the castle or any of the rest of your team since the battle yesterday that resulted in you all crash landing here?” Shiro blinks back at me, his gaze steady but only looking half awake, and Lance glances away, looking sheepish. I sigh, shaking my head but smiling as I reach across the desk to grab my tablet. “Alright, where am I sending a message to?”

“The… Castle of Lions?” Lance says hesitantly.

I stare at him a moment, knowing by the look on his face that he truly doesn’t know any better. The Princess or her Advisor really should have given these humans at least a basic crash course on the technology and systems they’re using, so that even the ones not big on tech could rig a ‘help’ communique. “I’ll try, but I don’t know if there’ll be a receiver set up like that.” I tab in a command series, opening the comm array and starting a search. Three ticks later, it’s offering me nothing. “Yeah, no. And trust me, I won’t be able to just search through everything without having some way to filter it down, there are way too many receivers out there. Do you know if- Hold on a tick. You guys have comms in your helmets right?”

Lance opens his mouth but doesn’t actually make a sound. He huffs, shaking his head, and lets out a small laugh. “Good point, I can’t believe we didn’t try that first!” He leaps to his feet, then bounds over to the pile of green and white and blue armour, grabbing up his helmet.

“I don’t think we’ve got enough range without sitting in a fully functioning Lion,” Shiro says abruptly, proving that he’s been paying more conscious attention to the conversation than I had realized.

I face him, nodding thoughtfully, beginning to think about how to solve that problem. “Mm, you’re right, probably not. Buuut, completely fixing our comm system was pretty close to our first achievement here. As long as I figure out how to meld the systems without burning anything out, I can boost your connection.”

“Yesss!” Lance crows, hefting his helmet in the air in the semblance of a victory dance. Shiro sighs lightly, but has a smile on his face as he watches Lance dance across the room back to us.

“Alright, alright, hand it over,” I prompt him, holding out my hand and not holding back my grin. It’s good to see him looking genuinely happy, and I wonder how much of that is coming from Shiro being awake and somewhat alert. Nevermind that I passed over some painkillers with Shiro's plate of food and he went for them first, with a not at all discrete thankful look to me.

Lance drops the helmet into my hands, bouncing over to Shiro and dropping to sit on the floor in front of him, Shiro's left hand gravitating to Lance's shoulder. It’s good that I don’t care to wipe the smile off my face, because if the boy keeps acting like this, it’ll be impossible. 

“Wha’s up Clary?” Well, it seems Escalus is awake now. “Whoop, nono Thealla, you stay, leggo me-” Awake and, judging by the name she muttered, wrapped up in octopus arms that rival one of the kids back on Iatradey. Well, half awake at least. “Whoa hold up, not Thealla. Pe- Pid- Pidge!”

“Shh!” I say, jumping to my feet. Quieter, I add, “If they’re still asleep, unhook yourself carefully and get over here.”

My friend freezes for a tick, squinting across the room at me, then grumbling and turning her gaze downward. While she’s busy untangling herself from Pidge’s grip, I take a few steps towards the computer array, grabbing another tablet and a few unused connector cords. I settle back into my seat, Lance’s helmet tucked under my right arm and the tablet held secure in my left hand so I can jab at it with the other.

“Actually there’s caf and food set out on the counter if you’re interested,” I suggest after hearing movement accompanied by an impressive amount of mumbling and grumbling – I’m not at all surprised when the shuffling steps change direction before a cup clacks down on the counter. There’s silence for a long moment, Escalus supposedly consuming her regular first cup of caf as I scan lines of command codes. I glance up, pausing the movement of my fingers for a tick as I sweep my eyes over my friend as she prepares to move over to us, then Shiro and Lance. Shiro’s mechanical hand is carefully set on the chair beside his leg, but the other is resting in Lance’s hair, the brunet leaning back a little, but not so much to be obvious about it. He looks alert still, but content, as does Shiro, while appearing significantly less alert. No surprise there, though it is very good to see Lance relaxed.

“Why the quiznak are you sciencing and technologying so early in the morning?” Escalus asks, her tone fond instead of accusatory, and I turn to where she’s approached my chair and yeah, she’s on to a cup of tea now.

I flip my gaze downwards to the tablet, copying a code series and tossing it sideways to the collection of relevant stuff I’ve started. “Because cherie, these guys need to contact their Castleship somehow, right? And they don’t seem to know the receiver code, so I am going to mix and match systems so we can send a message out to the right people.” She groans, putting plate and cup down on the nearest flat surface, then sits in the chair Lance had occupied while he ate. And then she drops her forehead to the table, sighing loudly. I smile, ignoring the momentary theatrics. “When I’m done, I’d like you to take a look over it before we start transmitting anything, in case there’s something I miss.”

“Fine, fine,” Escalus says, lifting her head up and cradling her cup of tea close. “Just let me-”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got several doboshes ahead of me. You’ve got time to eat.”

“Oh thank Gios,” she mutters.

"Yeah yeah," I mumble with a smile, sparing a glance over to Shiro and Lance. They look knowingly amused, as if they've had the pleasure of several experiences with someone like this in mornings recently.

There's a groan that sounds from the other room, where Pidge is still wrapped in blankets. They pop upright, clutching a pillow to their chest and rubbing at their eyes with the other hand. "Wha?" They blink a few times, amber eyes looking bigger than ever as they take in the four of us in the main room. "Why the... This's all..." Shaking their head, they look to the walls, and I assume they're taking in the pre-dawn light sneaking in through the wide crack that serves as our only window. "Hmph."

Shiro and Lance are sharing a look, still sitting quietly like they're waiting for Pidge to complete a sentence that actually addresses anyone, instead of the fragments they've uttered so far. The two look ready to wait a while.

Pidge slides across the bed towards the edge, one blanket moving with them, and they shift a hand to grab the sides of the blanket, tugging it tighter around their slim shoulders. I look away from them for a moment, seeing that Escalus is also watching Pidge. "Your turn to play mama," I say quietly, nudging Escalus before returning my gaze and full attention to the tablet in my lap.

I start by making a new side channel from our communication array, so that I can play around with the settings and connections and such without affecting the rest of our tech. It's easy enough from that point to start adjusting settings, keeping in mind that I just have to boost a message along an already established path from points A to B. I crack the new channel wide open, but limit it to only a few metres so it is discoverable within the house and no further - and then I grab one of the connector cords, plugging it in to the tablet, then Lance's helmet. Thankfully, there's an easily accessed set of ports in the helmet, and it appears my cords are compatible.

Pidge has joined the group, still huddled in their blanket with their small hands wrapped around a cup of caf where they sit. I look up to offer them a smile while the tablet goes through the process of acknowledging the helmet, but Pidge's attention is completely focused on the stimulant cupped in their hands. A quick glance around shows Lance fidgeting with the other connector cord I had grabbed earlier, while Escalus and Shiro are watching Pidge with fondness in both of their gazes. I'm smiling still, turning my eyes to the tablet in my lap once again.

"Escalus, just a few ticks," I say as an advance warning, sliding pieces of code around as my tablet continues to evaluate Lance's helmet and it's comm system. I add one more code sequence, and then my tablet is reading seven receivers that it is programmed to connect to without any extra passcodes. Four are coloured, I assume to correspond with the lions, while the other three are plainly coloured text. Only one of the plain receivers log any recent use, so that should be the Castle.

"Hm," Escalus says, her voice in my ear. She must be reading over my shoulder then. "That- yeah, that looks good."

I nod my thanks, turning my gaze to Lance. He meets my eyes almost immediately, and I choose the recently used receiver as the recipient, then offer the tablet to him, a text box open and ready. He takes the tablet and raises a hand to type in a message, but pauses. "Um," he says, lifting his hand to rub at his neck. "I don't know the language you have set."

"Clary," Escalus says in soft reproach, a laugh bubbling up in her voice.

I take the tablet back. Pulling open my text language options, I look at Lance and take a breath to speak, then release it. If he doesn't know the commonly used script, he probably won't know any of my installed languages. "Right. Do you want to dictate then?" He smiles brightly, eyes sparkling as he opens his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soo anyone watch season 6 yet? anyone?  
> considering some new info we get in s6, this fic is potentially a little more au than initially planned... but I might try to tie the new info in yet, without changing what I already have posted  
> side note, I wrote Lance's helmet as having the Castleship as the most recently used receiver, I figure the Lions basically have their own comms


	15. Insignificant is - was - Good

There's been no further transmissions from the Castleship. Just a simple confirmation twenty-two doboshes after our message and that they would try to come to Zustratra, but they were working on repairs of their own, so who knows when they might be able to reach the planet. Lance had seemed a little put out at the delay, but Pidge had - with ease born of apparent experience and routine - roped him into assisting them in doing what they could to fix the Black Lion up. I don't know what they're expecting to be able to do on giant cat space ships that seem to run at least half on quintessence, but it's good of Pidge to recognize that Lance needs something to do.

I grab a spanswer, stepping back to take a better look at the panels in front of me, then sigh, moving forwards again to rest my forehead against the smoothest looking piece.

He fidgets. Before we all left to work on our various projects, Lance had continued to take hold of small, insignificant bits of fabric or wire and play with them, his fingers moving near constantly. Pidge seems to respond to his anxiety well without even thinking about it. If that's how the rest of the paladins deal with him when he's like that then he should be in a decent frame of mind with them around. But if Pidge is the only one? I worry. I haven't even seen the dynamics of the entire Voltron team, and yet...

I think I recognize some of Lance in myself. Coupled with the rest of his personality and mannerisms that I've observed, it all adds up to someone who has incredible heart, but is liable to forget about self care while latching on to others that he can take care of.

A wry smile forms on my face as I focus back on checking and repairing the ship in front of me. The Black Lion decided I was a close enough match for her quintessence to pilot her, at least for a short while, but I suspect that, if it were Lance and Blue in Shiro and Black's state of injury, the Blue Lion would also find me sufficiently matched. It's funny, the ways quintessence works.

But the ship I'm currently working on channels only a tiny fraction of the life essence that each of the Voltron Lions do. I tweak the alignment of one last tetryon sustainer, then settle the cover panel back in place and move sideways to order a simulation run on my tablet. If that clears up the main thruster issue, we'll have to redo the EPS sealants in this area and that will be one less problem coming up on the diagnostics.

There's a soft ping in my ear, and I reach up to my headset to connect to the direct call.

_"Clary?"_

It's Escalus. I wonder if she's finished rewiring the autoemulation junctions yet - it's been a little over a varga since she let me know she was starting that, with Shiro at her side, 'helping' in some way or another. "Yes cherie?"

_"Just thought you should know, Pidge and Lance want to go exploring a bit. They've got a communicator keyed in to our channel, one of our maps, and I've advised them on the legend and what locations to avoid."_

I hum, considering. They've both got weapons - they had each showed us their 'bayards' earlier, before we all split up - so I know they'll be able to defend themselves if necessary. If they get stuck or go farther than they realize, we can send out the transport to the location of the communicator. "Sounds good, remind Lance to keep an eye on Pidge. They might still be tired from yesterquintant's ordeals."

_"Gotcha. Releasing them shortly."_

Escalus clicks off, and I turn my gaze to my tablet. Those two seem experienced in taking care of each other, and I think I can trust Lance to keep both of their limits in mind.

"Yesss," I mumble, smiling at the completed sim run and letting the humans fade from my focus. My most recent patch job has taken care of the main issue, so that means I can mark that off the list of problems and move on to something else. I flick one finger on my tablet, changing the screens over to the list. Every item is organized by it's primary effect on the overall running of the ship, so it's easy to find the section that contains the issues relating to thrusters and check the tetryon sustainers off as finished. Next... should probably be checking on the Balmera crystals, now that there are no systems that might accidentally electrocute anyone who crawls into the crystal container space.

With a sigh, I change the tablet screen again, just to check and be sure the hazards are as minimized as we can make them. The schematics agree with my memory, so I set the spanswer down and pull my headset off, setting it to open comm so that I don't have to hit any buttons to communicate, if I need to. I kneel to sweep a few crates aside and reveal a removable panel in the floor. I really dislike the crystal space. It feels... claustrophobic, I suppose, with the glow of the crystals reflecting off the metal walls and the crystals themselves messing with sound reverberations. I find the handle, hidden in a deep seam, and pull, lifting the panel up then sitting beside it.

The container looks the same as usual from this angle, but to be safe I grab my tablet and a vibration detector, linking them with a touch of one to the other. The detector program pops to the front of the screen, reading relatively stable levels of... well, of everything it's equipped to measure. I check the settings, to ensure it'll sound a loud alert if something changes beyond the acceptable ranges, and sigh again, setting tablet and detector on the floor near the entrance to the crystal space. Time to go in. I swing my legs over the edge, pushing off the floor and dropping a few handspans to the bottom of the container.

At first glance, the crystals all look to be aligned properly. One might be a off, but little enough that I can shift it on my own. I double over and step forwards, imagining that I can feel my hair brushing against the ceiling in here. I know it isn't nearly that close a fit, but I'm still not fond of the imagined sensation. A few steps bring me to the crystal that's not quite aligned, and I grimace at the angle I'll need to get to put it back in place. There's nothing for it though, and I half kneel, setting my shoulder against the crystal and shoving. It clicks into place but flickers.

My tablet beeps a warning. I scramble up and out of the container space, sitting a pace away from the edge and reaching for my tablet. Five out of six crystal energy transmissions are stable, the sixth fluctuating on the edge of the acceptable range. That isn't what set off the warning though.

"What?..." That's weird. We'd really only seen a resurgence of that particular compound's vibrations when we tested the mapping functions of the ship, and that was not in the plans for this quintant. "Hey Escalus?"

There's some muffled sounds, like my friend is fumbling for her commbox. _"Yeah?"_

"I'm getting oscalt dishedian vibrations," I say with a frown, hearing Escalus make a surprised sound in response and taking that as confirmation that she heard. An alert sounds behind and off to my left, and I jump up to my feet, taking several hurried steps to check on the computer. "Scaulrium levels are rising near Hill number one. Actually, gekralt is spiking too, just like-" I freeze, trying to think of what systems we had running. Nothing that had previously affected those elements, while I could think of only one thing that we had observed changing both scaulrium and gekralt at a similar time. I split the screen, pulling up the scanner array. "Frakking hell," I spit, one hand flying to my headset and pulling it on awkwardly while tabbing quick code sequences in on the computer. "Escalus, Blackout now, shut everything down except for the Redirection outposts! Gather ASAP with the paladins in the cave no matter what they're up to, we may need to evacuate!"

_"What? Clarence, why, what's going on?"_

I take a deep breath, closing my eyes. We had never expected this; not really. We were such a minor crash on a militarily insignificant planet, and we had done nothing more than repair our ship and survive on Zustratra. Until recently, at least. I puff a quick sigh, rubbing my eyes and cataloguing what we can move with us off planet with no more than a few doboshes' work, because I suspect that that is what it will come to.

I take another deep breath. "We have a Galran battlecruiser incoming."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW okay  
> I've been aiming for 1k min for each chapter, this one really felt like filler words to get there... seriously, do we need to hear this much about the ship repairs??..
> 
> ~hand-wavey technology/technobabble~  
> like literally I found a couple 'technobabble generators' and hit generate a few times til I had some words I liked


	16. We Gotta Fly

I stride through the smaller tunnel into the cavern, as happy as I can be that I see Escalus and the humans approaching through the tunnel from the house, a few bags and boxes carried between the four of them. "Pidge, how's Black?" I call out, hoping they had had enough time to fix the more important issues before their exploring break.

Pidge lifts a hand, tilting it from side to side as they grimace. "Better?"

"She isn't doing too hot," Lance offers, "but she should fly to the Castle happily enough."

"That'll do. Get that stuff loaded up - whatever in whichever lions, organizing doesn't matter to me." Shiro half stumbles a step, and I hurry to his side, noting the bags he's got slung over his good shoulder, mechanical hand gripping the straps to keep them from slipping. "Let me grab those," I say quietly, holding out a hand. We both stop moving for a moment and I reach out to lift the straps off his shoulder, letting him pull his wrapped forearm out of the loops. "Ideally," I say, flicking my eyes to Shiro's face then ahead in the general direction of the lions, "we'd get off planet, get rid of the battlecruiser, and then land on Zustratra again. But if that doesn't pan out... Are you okay with bringing us along to the Castleship for a short while? We wouldn't stay long."

He grimaces and takes a rough sounding breath. "Yeah, that... that should be fine."

I nod, clicking my tongue to get Escalus' attention. She slows to a stop, turning, and the other two follow suit as soon as they realize. I take a few more steps and stop myself, hearing Shiro puff a little sigh and shuffle his feet behind me. "Alright. Lance, go ahead to Blue. Escalus, stick to Pidge and do exactly as they tell you. Shiro…” The other three hustle away as they get their directions, and I huff a breath as I shift to look at the man, hoping desperately that he’s come to the same conclusion I've had since he woke up.

“I don’t know if I can fly Black,” he says quietly, meeting my eyes, and with the way he's leaning heavily on the wall, it's clear that he's feeling his injuries right now. There’s a world of emotion on his face, from well disguised panic to vulnerable shame, with a hint of curiosity. We’re agreed, then. I’ll be clambering into the chair again. I take a deep breath, not impressed by the way my next exhale wavers out of me, but that’s irrelevant at the moment.

I loop an arm around Shiro’s waist. “Let’s get moving then. With you in the cockpit, I might actually get some help this time.” He huffs a laugh that’s more of a shudder than it should be as we walk to Black, me pushing our pace as fast as I think is reasonable, then just a little faster. “Not that Black wasn’t incredibly helpful, it’s just… It’s nice to know what I’m doing sooner than a tick or two after I’ve done it.” Which isn’t entirely true either? Because when I had asked Black for guidance, she had basically show-told me what we were doing as we did it. I shake my head at myself.

Anxious, that’s all I am. Nowhere in my day plan had I included another, bigger Empire attack, nor the resulting effect of all five of us basically evacuating. Nowhere in my future had I expected to fly one of the Voltron Lions again. Certainly not with her chosen Paladin fully conscious and leaning on me as we approach the ramp to enter the Lion.

"Hey beautiful," Shiro mumbles in greeting, staring up at his Lion. There's a sense of a flowing breeze ruffling both of our hair as she effectively purrs, and he chuckles lowly. "Yeah, I know." She's communicating with him somewhat while I start to maneuver us up the ramp and Shiro scoffs then ducks his head quickly. It makes me think of last evening, when everyone else was asleep and Lance and I came down to visit the Lions. Seeing him interact with Blue was a lot like what I'm seeing now with Shiro, though Lance was a lot noisier. "Tip number one," Shiro says, startling me a bit as we reach the top of the ramp. "Don't compare them." I turn my head sideways, just to be sure he's addressing me. There's a smile on his face - small and pained, but still there - and he continues with an explanation. "She knows you're comparing her to Blue, and she's- she isn't impressed."

I scoff. "They're all lovely in their own way. Unique."

We turn a corner, and Shiro leans heavily on me but laughs. "Still- ugh." He stumbles, and I drop the bags I've been carrying, my hand flying to his chest to steady him, careful of the blaster wound.

"Hey, what's going on? Shiro?" He gasps, trying to hunch his shoulders over on himself. "Hey come on, talk to me please."

"I- I can't-" It sounds like he's struggling for breath. I look up, gauging how far we are from the pilot chair. The answer? Kind of far. Much closer is a light pulsing gently in a cut out space in the wall that looks like a bench. I think _**gratitude**_ at Black and solidify my grip around Shiro's waist, practically lifting him as I shift his body weight then move forward four paces to set him down.

"Alright, lay down, come on," I say, issuing the instructions even as I lift his legs, arranging him on the deep bench. Shiro's mechanical hand grasps at the air while he sucks in a breath and coughs. I slip my hand into his and squeeze, his fingers tightening for an instant before relaxing into a comfortable grip. "Try to relax, you'll start finding it easier to breathe in this position."

_"Shiro? Clarence?"_

Damn. That's Lance's voice, coming from the cockpit. "Go ahead, we'll be a few ticks behind you," I shout in the direction of the pilot chair, hoping the mic can hear me from back here. There's a short, worried response, but I ignore it. "Come on Shiro, you're alright here." His gasps for breath are slowing, becoming steadier and less frantic though the exhales sound rough. Finally, he closes his eyes and his head tilts back a little on the bench, the next breath sounding almost normal. I wait a tick while he inhales again, still fairly smooth. "Alright?"

His eyes crack open for just a moment and he nods faintly, releasing my hand. Black is making a soothing sound, a rumbling-rustling sort of purr that I can feel more than hear, and if it's anything like the felines I've encountered then it's a good frequency to help Shiro relax. Which is good, because I'm needed elsewhere.

"Stay here, I'll try to check in with you after we're done with the battlecruiser, if you haven't spoken first." He nods again, and I nod back even though he won't see, then I step away from the bench, heading for the pilot chair. I reach out, fingers touching on the smooth side. Two steps forwards then one to the side, and I'm sinking into the chair again and it slides toward the console as everything lights up soft purple again. "Hey Black, can we toss audio or video feeds up again?"

Lance appears immediately, the white of his armour lit with blue glow. Pidge and Escalus pop up half a tick later, both of them tinted by green. It makes Escalus' hair look a strange colour where she's standing behind the pilot chair, clutching the top, but the markings under her eyes might be brighter than I've ever seen them.

_"Hey what's going on, where's Shiro?"_ Lance asks, worry twisting his face into a frown while his gaze flickers around his viewscreen.

I shake my head, lips pressed together. I don't dare tell them what just happened, especially when I can't quite figure out why he had such an unexpected bout of dyspnea. "We agreed, he's better off trying to rest."

_"Oh, okay,"_ Lance says, his expression clearing. _"Come up outta there in five ticks, we'll give you a bit of an opening."_

"Roger that," I say, my mind spinning as I try to remember the controls. Black whuffles at me, and I smile sheepishly. "Alright girl, show me what I need to do." There's something that sounds like the cry of a predatory avian, then the Lion is directing me to grasp the joysticks, pull up-up-up- Then thrust one forwards, and when I look out the viewscreen I see that we've ascended out of the cavern, green and purple mottled land spread out in front of us. "Alright. We can do this." Black gives me a sense of agreement along with a sharp prodding to move the joysticks. Blue and Green are darting about around the fighter ships that would have come from the battlecruiser slowly making it's way closer to the planet. "Alright beautiful, let's do this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters in two days? whaaaaaatt?? haha, just feeling the Camp NaNo crunch - I've got 5k left to my goal, and approximately 4, maybe 5 days to do it in cause I'm off to california for like 6 days over next weekend  
> ANYWAYS  
> next chap should be fighting the rudely appearing battlecruiser! and after that flying to meet up with the Castleship! and then anD THeN

**Author's Note:**

> yes yes yes actual canon characters will be appearing shortly
> 
> pictures! my own artistic skill! for all of you! so you have some idea how to go about picturing Clarence and Escalus!  
> [Clarence](https://cyndrastar.deviantart.com/art/Clarence-Minola-736960051)  
> [Escalus](https://cyndrastar.deviantart.com/art/Escalus-Mowbray-736960244)  
> [character designs liable to change, I just like/need to have some sort of visualization for myself while writing characters so therefore art happened]


End file.
